


Archer's Mark

by KnightDawn



Series: From Rags to Riches [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Smut, Thieves Guild, because you have to keep on fighting the good fight, home is where the heart is, lots of snark, lots of swearing, love and war in the face of the apocalypse, mostly plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:01:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8499748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightDawn/pseuds/KnightDawn
Summary: “Reliable and headstrong? You're turning out to be quite the prize...”Niruin turned to give Brynjolf's little protege a once-over, one eyebrow quirked up... and the other shortly followed as he took in her slight build, sweat-and-blood soaked leathers, and pointed ears.Brynjolf clearly forgot to mention that the “new blood” was also a Bosmer.





	1. New Blood

New Blood

3rd of Frostfall, 4E 201

 

"Did you hear what went down at the orphanage? Damn."  Vex kept her voice hushed as she talked to Delvin from her usual spot, leaning against a crate in the Ragged Flagon.  "I mean, I knew Grelod the Kind was horrible enough to have a contract out on her, but yeesh. That's one hell of a way to go."

"Oh, I dunno, Vex." Delvin smirked a little as he fiddled with some paperwork on the table in front of him.  "I think it had class. I mean, at least they murdered her in her bed and not in front of all the kids. Right? Quick and clean, too. That arrow was right in her heart."

"Well gee, Delvin, they'd have to be a piss poor assassin to try killing her in front of people."

"Aye, but sometimes they like to make a... point." A low chuckle left the old Breton.  "The kids seem happy enough, don't they?"

Niruin grimaced a bit as he sipped at his mead and listened to Vex and Delvin speak. They were always doing this sort of thing, but... today, it was different. "Can't you two find something else to talk about? I mean, really..." he rolled his eyes a little, "I've heard about nothing else all day."

“Oh, and here I thought you just had a weak stomach.”  

By the tone of her voice, it was clear Vex was wearing a smug smirk.  Niruin frowned and turned to cast her an annoyed glare when he caught sight of Brynjolf striding into the flagon. There was a spring to his step Niruin hadn't seen in years.

“Vekel, pour me a glass, will ye? I've got quite the tale for you!”

“If it's anything about the orphanage, I swear...” Vekel warned, a tired look in his eye.

“Oh no, not at all!” Brynjolf slammed his hands down on the bar and grinned. “I've found us some new blood, Vekel. You should have seen her! She executed the plan perfectly... And here I was, expecting to have to cover for her!”

Niruin felt a smile tug at his lips as he watched Bryn take a long swig from his tankard. “You said something very similar about the last recruit, as I recall... and he was only slightly better than average.”

“No, but I really mean it this time. She's good. Best I've seen in years, and that's saying something. She might be just what we need to turn this place around. Could you imagine? Why, we could be known across Skyrim again! Well, that is, provided the Ratways don't prove to be too much of a challenge for her.” The Nord gave a wry laugh and took a sip of his drink.

“Give it up, Brynjolf, those days are over.” Poor Vekel sounded so exhausted... But Niruin couldn't blame him. The Guild was nothing like it once was.  They'd been struggling for years – it was hard to believe a new recruit could really change that.

“I'm telling you, this one is different...”

“We've all heard that one before, Brynjolf. Quit kidding yourself.”

“It's time to face the truth, old friend. You, Vex, Mercer... You're all part of a dying breed. Things are changing!”

“Aye! For the better!  You just wait and see, Vekel.”

Despite Brynjolf's enthusiasm, Niruin felt inclined to agree with Dirge and Vekel. The coin had been drying up for years now. And even game was growing scarce – if they weren't careful, they'd be no better off than beggers, pleading for food.

He took another sip of his ale, ears perking only a little when the sound of quiet footsteps made their way to the bar behind them - and the sharp smell of fresh blood filled the air. “So, is this the place?”

“Well, well... color me impressed, lass. I wasn't certain I'd ever see you again!”

“Are you kidding? Getting here was easy.”

“Reliable and headstrong? You're turning out to be quite the prize...”

Niruin turned to give Brynjolf's little protege a once-over, one eyebrow quirked up... and the other shortly followed as he took in her slight build, sweat-and-blood soaked leathers, and pointed ears.

Brynjolf clearly forgot to mention that the “new blood” was also a Bosmer.

 

While Bryn got the new recruit outfitted in proper Guild leathers, Niruin returned to the training room to practice with his bow. He didn't often mingle with his own kind – they were few and far between in Skyrim, for one thing. And for another...

“So what's your story?”

He jumped, frowning as his arrow flew wide of it's mark. Damn that girl and her quiet feet. He huffed a little and drew another arrow. “I used to live in Valenwood, where I worked at my father's winery. We made the finest wine to ever cross your lips, I promise you.” He gave a little laugh. “We had plenty of coin, a huge mansion, and I was even betrothed to a lovely young woman.”

Perhaps that would impress her a little bit. He loosed another arrow, this one striking true, and turned to face her. She crossed her arms and frowned.

“Why would you leave a life like that behind?”

“It was dull,” he mused. “I didn't care about any of it. I wanted to do something exciting, something dangerous...”

“So you became a thief?”

“That's right,” he stood up straight and smirked as he caught a dangerous glint in her amber eyes. Oh, Brynjolf was right – she was something different. “And you know what, despite what I left behind... I don't regret it one bit.”

“I see.” She smiled. “Mind if I train here for a bit?”

“Not at all – if you ever need some practice with your bow, just grab me.”

 

Her name was Eira, as Niruin soon learned. And while she was decent with the bow, her hands shook some on the draw. He paused to guide her hands into a better grip, and felt a frown tug at his lips when he noticed she was even slighter than most women of their race – her cheeks hollow and pale, fingers thin and bony. She was really just a wisp of a girl.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“No, it's nothing. I think that's enough for tonight, though. They probably have your bed ready by now – you should go ask where it is.”

“Alright, sounds fair.”

Niruin sighed as he watched her take leave. He really hoped she lived up to Brynjolf's expectations. Hell, he just hoped she lived. It was one thing to be good at archery, but... Skyrim was a dangerous place these days, especially if the rumors trickling in from the west were true and dragons had really returned.

But if that were the case, then the Guild's luck really had all run out.

She was in and out of the Flagon following her induction to the Guild, but whenever she came back it was always with whatever she'd been asked to get and sometimes a little extra. Delvin and Vex were pleased with her, but who wouldn't be? She was quick, professional, and (most importantly) she never left a mess behind for the Guild to clean up.

Niruin would be lying if he said he wasn't a little impressed by his fellow Bosmer theif, but he was beginning to grow curious about her methods. So, naturally, when he caught sight of her in the streets of Windhelm while running a job for Vex... he decided to follow her for a little while, just to see how she worked.

“Would you like to buy some flowers?”

“Flowers, you say? They are very pretty. Why are you selling flowers, uh...”

“Sofie. I sell flowers because my... my parents died in the war. It's not much, but... at least I can earn a little coin every day.”

Niruin frowned. It was a sad story, yes, but the child could be making it up. Classic con, right there. Easy way to find out where someone kept their coin purse. And yet... Eira pulled some coins out and bought a handful of blue flowers.

He wanted to be upset, but the way Eira smiled as the little girl ran off... Well, fine. It was her coin to spend as she saw fit, he supposed. But he preferred to spend his coin on other things.

So did Eira, though, it seemed. He watched her buy a drink and settle into a seat by the fire in Candlehearth Hall as he snuck down the stairs to find the inn's safebox. The local bard started to sing a song about the Dragonborn, and Niruin sighed. He was honestly getting a little sick of hearing about the damn Dragonborn. Nord hero that he was, he probably hated thieves. Especially Bosmer theives.

Lucky as he was, though, he got to listen to the whole damn song as every lockpick he had broke in the safebox. He swore and fled quickly – but not quick enough to miss the smile playing on Eira's lips. Had she seen him?

Damn it, he wasn't going to let Brynjolf's new recruit best him!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing a Skyrim story. I love this game and the characters in it too much for my own good, it would seem. The Thieves Guild stole my heart away and I was very disappointed with how little the various plots actually influence each other - I mean, really.
> 
> So this is my attempt to make the plotlines overlap and mingle just a wee bit more than they do in the game.


	2. To Fight and Be Free

To Fight and Be Free

15th of Frostfall, 4E 201

 

Eira tossed some coin to the bard as she finished her song, shivering a little in the chill of the draft from the door as it swung shut. She sipped her hot mead and took another bite of some cheese, enjoying the warmth that pooled in her stomach.

It tasted good.

Not just the mead and cheese, though. Even the air tasted good here, bitter cold as it was, because she finally had the freedom to decide her own future. She finally had freedom, period. It had been so long since she'd had that she'd almost forgotten how good it felt to be alive.

She finished off the cheese and stood up, still drinking the last of her mead. She'd bought a room to stay in for the night, hoping to finish business quickly in the wee hours of the morning so she could return to Riften soon. She felt more at home there than in the streets of Windhelm.

Some of the Nords at the bar still sneered at her, despite the services she'd done their city. “Don't cross me, elf. And keep your arrows in their quiver.” Eira glanced to the Nord that had spoken and frowned, her empty tankard hitting the wood of the bar with a loud, heavy clang.

“You know, now I'm really tempted to stick one up your arse.” A smug grin crossed her face even as the man rose from his seat and approached her, face screwed up in anger.

“You want to fight me, we do it with bare hands. No weapons. No magic, either.”

“If it makes you feel better, sure.” She ducked the first swing he threw at her and gave a wry laugh. “Not all mer are magically inclined, though. I wish you Nords would stop assuming we're all alike.” She landed a solid punch to his gut that made him stagger and double over, then followed up with one that clipped his jaw and knocked him down.

She went to bed that night with some extra coin in her pocket.

Of course, she was also up at the first crack of dawn to leave – she had things to get done before she made her way back to Riften. Namely, meeting with the Jarl of Eastmarch and would-be High King of Skyrim – Ulfric Stormcloak himself.

She took a deep breath before pushing open the door to the Palace of Kings. It wasn't her first visit here, not by a long-shot. She'd spoken to Ulfric's advisor, Jorlief, several times back when she was trying to solve the case of the murders in the streets of Windhelm. However...

Eira had been putting off meeting Ulfric in person for a while now, despite the fact that she'd decided to join the Stormcloaks mere hours after escaping Helgen. Ralof and his family had been kind to her, even allowing her to stay with them for several days while she got her strength back. It was one thing for him to pity her – he had treated her like an equal from the moment she ran to join him in the Keep. But Ulfric? Eira shuddered to remember how small she had felt under his scrutiny.

Things were different now, though. Eira was different now... and she was ready to meet him. As she made her way through the throne room, voices echoed from the meeting chamber off to one side – including Ulfric's, which carried with ease.

“Balgruuf won't give us a straight answer.”

“He's a true Nord. He'll come around.”

“Don't be so sure of that. We've intercepted couriers from Solitude. The Empire's putting a great deal of pressure on Whiterun.”

“And what would you have me do?”

“If he's not with us, he's against us.” Eira gave a quiet huff as she adjusted her cloak and approached the door to the chamber, which was open. Before her, she saw Ulfric speaking with one of his men, the would-be High King bowed over the war map on the table.

“He knows that. They all know that.” Ulfric sighed, and Eira took note of the way he moved very slowly. He must be very tired of dealing with this mess -

“Who goes there!” Ah, his friend had spied her at last. Eira smirked a bit as she held her head high and waited for Ulfric to turn around. She was not surprised to see a gleam of recognition in his eyes as he sized her up again. His shoulders rolled a little as he straightened his back and bid her to come in with a nod of his head.

“Dragonborn,” he said, in greeting. The other man glared at her with scrutiny, but said nothing. “I was beginning to wonder when you'd grace us with your presence in earnest. Jorlief tells me you helped with some... problems in the city.”

“The murders, you mean?” She shook her head as she walked in and leaned on one of the chairs, trying to seem as casual about this as possible. Ulfric didn't need to know the unease that fluttered in her stomach. All of this was still so damn new to her - “I'm surprised you didn't do a better job. I mean, it was your own women that were dying in the streets, Jarl. Not argonians or mer.”

Ah, she had struck a nerve with that comment. There was a storm in his eyes – and a warning in his tone. “My resources are stretched thin, Dragonborn. Do not mistake a lack of manpower for a lack of concern. I am grateful for your help, as I'm sure Jorlief has told you.”

“He has.” He had paid her well for her services, too. “Thank you. But what I said still stands – you could do with finding better soldiers to mind the streets of your home, Ulfric.” She gave his companion a look, and smirked with pride when she saw how he was seething.

Ulfric seemed to note the tension in the air as well. “Galmar, perhaps we should continue our discussion another time. I think the Dragonborn has something to discuss with me – else I doubt she would have come here.”

“Aye,” Eira said, unable to keep a smile off her lips as Galmar growled under his breath and left the room. “Ralof told me you were the man to speak to if I wished to join the Stormcloaks in their fight for Skyrim's freedom.”

Ulfric truly seemed surprised by that one. “Ralof's alive? I hope that's true. He's a damn good man, but he hasn't returned yet. I'll have to wait for his account.”

“I guess he's still licking his wounds,” Eira mused. “His family took care of me after we escaped Helgen. Gerdur and Hod wouldn't let me leave Riverwood until they were sure I was able to fend for myself.”

Ulfric did give a quiet laugh at that. “I don't blame them. You didn't look like much back then, Eira. Yet... here you are.” She must have looked surprised, because he smiled before he turned back to his map. “Word travels, Dragonborn. But I was there when you gave the executioners your name. I do not forget things so easily.”

Nor did Ulfric take wounds to his pride lightly, it would seem. Eira sighed as she left Windhelm, not looking forward to the task Galmar had given her to prove herself worthy of calling herself a Stormcloak – kill the ice wraith guarding the Serpent's Stone, really? She hated those damn things. It was hard to aim at something made of nothing but ice and air.

At least she could take her anger out on some bandits in the area, first. It wasn't like they'd given her a time limit on killing the damn wraith. Now, where was that bounty note Brunwulf Free-Winter had given her? Ah, there.

Uttering Hills Cave. She had passed by that place on the way into Windhelm, hadn't she? She could take out the bandits on the way back to Riften easily. Eira smirked and stowed the note away, drawing her bow instead.

This was going to be fun.

 

Niruin cursed under his breath as his arrow missed and struck rock, spooking the goat he'd been hunting. It was hard to hunt game in the mountains of Eastmarch, where the wind often kicked up the snow. The thief had hoped to catch enough game to appease Vex after botching the heist job in Windhelm, but he was having trouble even catching his own dinner.

Damn it all!

He breathed some warm air on his hands and followed the tracks the goat had left, hoping to find it again before the snow covered the trail. When he spied it eating a tuft of dry grass he smiled and drew his bow taught again, ready to let the arrow fly.

But then there was a sharp pain as something struck the side of his head, and the arrow buried itself in the snow instead as darkness claimed him.

He woke in a cold, dark cell to the sound of wind wailing in the caverns above him. There was a stiff pain in his neck and when he shivered he felt dry blood crinkling on his neck. Great. Just great. He was starting to wonder if Delvin was right about the Guild being cursed after all. The gods certainly seemed to love toying with him lately.

“Finally awake, I see.” Niruin inhaled sharply as he sat up and looked outside the cell to find the bearer of the voice – an Altmer, by the looks of him. He was dressed in some strange garb. Wait, he knew that sigil!

“Damn!” he swore. What were the Summerset Shadows doing in Skyrim?

The Altmer seemed far too pleased by Niruin's reaction. “We caught you red handed, little thief. Thought you could poach our game, did you?”

“Well, actually, I thought I was poaching game from Ulfric Stormcloak – he owns the lands of the Eastmarch, does he not?”

Niruin flinched when tepid ale was splashed on him. At least he hoped it was ale. He didn't want to think about the alternative. “Shut your damn mouth, Bosmer. I didn't say you could talk, did I? Keep being smart and I'm sure the boss will let me shut you up permanently.”

Oh, that's right. The Summerset Shadows were a lot like the Silver Crescents in that regard – they didn't have a code against killing. Niruin closed his lips, shivering even more in his soaked leathers. He was going to catch his death in here, one way or another. That was certain.

Divines, help him.

The guard outside his cell suddenly gave a startled gasp before slumping against the wall, as if in answer to Niruin's prayer. There was an arrow in his chest – a perfect strike. Niruin followed the path it had taken with his eyes and felt heat rush to his face when he caught sight of the archer.

Damn his luck, of course it was her – Brynjolf's pride and joy, Eira. He'd likely never hear the end of this – Niruin, who'd been with the guild some thirty years now, rescued by the new recruit. “Shit,” he groaned. “Just kill me now.”

“Did you hear something?”

Niruin could feel Eira's gaze piercing right through his armor, but only for a moment before she was ambushing the guards that burst through the door to check on the noise. They collapsed one after the other, blood pooling on the stone beneath them. She only took a moment to wipe her dagger clean on their clothes before she was gone again – sneaking through the door they had come through.

She only came back to free Niruin when the rest were just as dead. “Come here,” she sighed. “It's warmer in the other room. And you can change into these – they're dry.” She pressed a bundle of clothes into his arms and ushered him into the other rooms, where she let him change while she rummaged through their pantry for some food that they could eat.

And despite all the knots he still had in his stomach, Niruin had to admit he felt much better when he was dry and had a belly full of mead and hot stew. Eira eyed him in silence while she ate her own meal, and he felt heat rush to his face again. “Well, what is it? Surprised I got myself captured, is that it? Well, don't be. I've had piss poor luck of late.”

“Don't be stupid,” Eira rolled her eyes and stuffed the last bite of bread into her mouth. “Let me see your head, I don't like the look of that wound.”

“It's fine,” he protested, but she got up and walked over to him anyway, hands tugging his hood back so she could inspect the cut above his ear. He winced as she she started to clean it with a wet cloth, touched with some healing potion.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I'd use magic, but... well, I'm piss poor at that, myself.”

He gave a soft laugh despite everything, his lips curving into a smile. “So am I,” he admitted. “But I've rarely heard a mer admit it quite so... bluntly.”

“Why shouldn't I be blunt about it? I can barely put a spell together before my powers run dry – it's much easier to trust something I can keep my hands on.”

“I couldn't have put it better myself,” Niruin chuckled. “It's why I favor the bow – now there's something I can trust. Well, most of the time. It's damn hard to read the wind in these mountains.”

Eira laughed aloud and pulled the cloth away, returning to her seat across from him. “I guess you should stick to hunting around Riften, then. Maybe we can catch some game on the way home.”

They returned to the Guild with two deer and three rabbits between them.  After learning about his botched job Eira was also kind enough to slip Niruin a couple amethysts to give to Vex. He tried to refuse them, but she insisted - “I just took them because I thought they looked pretty. I'd rather not see Vex chew out the ass I just saved.”

“Now, now – we can keep that between us, can't we?”

Eira laughed, and Niruin did not like the little smirk that tugged at her lips after. “Maybe – I'll consider it if you give me some free practice later.”

“Done,” he agreed. “It's the least I could do.”

He was surprised she was willing to keep his slip ups quiet for no more than a little practice with the bow, which she hardly even seemed to need, but she kept her end of the bargain. Vex was happy with the heist, Delvin was happy to learn the Summerset Shadows had been shut down, and the rest of the Guild were just happy to be fed.

And several days later, when Niruin was drinking at the Flagon and overheard Eira asking for a jobs in Winterhold... he was quick to ask for work in the same, even if Vex looked at him funny afterwards.

“Winterhold? You want me to give you a job in Winterhold? I thought you hated how cold it gets that far north, elf. I mean, you sure as hell wouldn't stop complaining about the weather last time Delvin sent you there.”

“Well maybe I need a reminder,” he sighed. “Just give me the damn job, Vex.”

“Fine, just don't come complaining to me about freezing your ass off. You asked for it. Here's your job – now get going, before I send you to the apothecary instead.”

 

He did ask for it, truly, though it grew harder to remember why the further north he got. It was freezing, and miserable, and he could hardly see ten feet in front of him in this damn snowstorm. A bear appeared out of nowhere, but he was lucky enough an ice wraith came down from the mountains and distracted it while he crept by both of them.

By the time he got to the Frozen Hearth, he was just glad to have a fire to sit by. He could go looking for the loot Vex wanted later. Ah, he'd never tasted mead so sweet.

“Well, well, fancy meeting you here,” Eira mused, mirth bubbling up in her voice, and Niruin felt stupid for having forgotten he'd meant to keep his presence here secret from her in his haste to get away from the storm.

“Mmm. Quite the coincidence, is it not? Did Vex or Delvin send you this way as well?”

“I'm pretty damn sure they sent me this way first – you were at the Flagon when I asked for jobs out this way, after all.” Ah, there was that smug smirk again. She was no fool.

“Alright, fine, you've got me. I wanted to see if I could be any help to you. I mean, I know you said we're square, but I feel like you're getting slighted by our bargain.” He didn't like the sinking feeling that she had an ace up her sleeve she could draw on him. And yet...

“It's fine, really. I know you're probably not used to the concept, but I didn't help you because I hoped to gain anything from it – I did it because you're my friend, and friends help each other. I wasn't about to let you rot in that dungeon, Nir.”

“That may be true, but...” he trailed off as she took a seat beside him. Had she just called him Nir? That was new.

“Fine, I see you're going to be stubborn about it. If you want to pay me back so much, why don't you buy a round of drinks for us? That should cover everything. Sound fair?”

He gave a little snort of a laugh. “Sounds delightful, actually.”

Niruin really wasn't expecting Eira to get quite so flirtatious with him after downing her mead, though. Nor had he expected her lithe tongue to feel so damn good moving against his own when she grabbed him by the shirt to kiss him. After that he knew it was more than just the mead making him feel warm, and he couldn't stop a quiet noise from leaving him when she broke away.

Eira's pale cheeks were flushed as she laughed and pressed her thumb against his lips. “Have you bought a room for yourself yet, Nir?”

“No,” he admitted. Gods, the look in her eyes was dangerous.

“Don't bother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this story is rated Mature for several reasons.
> 
> Eira is the Dragonborn, and this story will explain what brought her to Skyrim eventually - her past plays into her role quite a bit, and definitely influences how she deals with certain situations. I made the decision a while back to avoid beginning THIS tale in Helgen since... so many Skyrim stories start with that scene, but I may do a prequel fic at some point that covers Eira's days in Skyrim before signing on with the Guild.
> 
> For now, enjoy the budding elven romance. (Niruin is doomed.)


	3. Home

Home

1st of Sun's Dusk, 4E 201

 

Things happened pretty quickly once they were in her room at the inn – Niruin wasted no time in pressing her against the stiff mattress, his lips connecting with hers again to taste more of her sweet tongue. She tugged at the straps of his shirt and he enjoyed every touch she gave him as she stripped it off him even if the room was still a little colder than his liking.

He felt her tense up a little when he started to return the favor, but then she was pulling him down to kiss him again and his head spun even as his practiced fingers made short work of her armor's straps. He kissed down her jaw and reveled in the sounds she made as he drew his hands across her skin, smooth and pale where it didn't bear scratches and marks she'd earned in recent battles.

By the time his fingers brushed over her bound breasts, he was painfully hard. It had been far too long since he'd been with a woman, and longer still since he'd been with one of his own kindred, but he still knew how to work one like a fine bow. She arched against him and made a pleased sound as he pressed back. Gods, he needed her.

Niruin kissed one of her ears as he slid a hand further down to stroke and toy with her inside her leathers. He suckled at her lobe before nipping gently at the delicate point at the tip, and she moaned aloud. He smirked when he dipped his fingers lower still and found her wet and wanting. Yes, good. He had not lost his touch, it would seem.

“Niruin...” she groaned. “Nir, please.”

“Soon,” he promised. “Gods, Eira. I want you, trust me.” He pulled his hand back out and licked his fingers clean, smirking as Eira watched him. She was panting slightly, and he didn't miss the glance she gave his clothed erection before she brought her hands up to tug at the straps keeping his pants on. Niruin gasped when she tugged his pants down and her fingers curled around his cock, giving it a few quick strokes before he stopped her.

“I'd rather not come before I've even been inside you.”

“Then don't keep me waiting.”

He pressed her against the mattress again after that warning and gave her throat a needy kiss as he tugged her pants off quickly. After that it was just a matter of moving close and taking careful aim before he found his mark and slid inside her with a groan, her legs locking around him as she cried out.

“Nir...!” Oh gods, she was tight and hot around him, and looked damn good gripping the furs like that beneath him. He rolled against her roughly, enjoying every noise he drew from her. It wasn't long before she was panting and gasping for air, fingernails scraping against his back. “Nir, fuck, I'm going to...”

“Yes,” he groaned against her neck and bucked into her harder still, feeling his own climax fast approaching. She screamed and writhed and he bit at her skin as he spilled his seed deep inside her, giving a few more weak thrusts before he went still, feeling sated and spent for the first time in a damn long while.

 

It was nice to wake in a warm bed, Niruin thought. And nicer still to wake up next to a lovely, warm woman. He let his fingers roam over the skin of her back as he spooned her, lips ghosting over her shoulders. There was a tattoo of the Guild's shadowmark on her right shoulder blade - something he hadn't noticed in their haste the night before. Though it was curious, most curious, how the pale white circle in the center of the mark looked like a...

“Enjoying yourself?” Eira asked, and Niruin chuckled.

“Oh, yes. Very much so. It's always nice to wake up beside a beautiful young woman, especially after a night like that. Gods, I haven't enjoyed myself that much in a while.” He pressed another kiss to the back of her neck and smirked at the way it made her blush and shiver.

“Me either,” she admitted. “It was nice, thank you.”

He let his fingers trace her tattoo again, and he pulled back to study her. “This mark you have – here, in the center. It's...”

“A burn, yes,” Eira said, tone curt and tense. “The face changer said it would be the most effective way of covering up an old brand.”

“A brand?” Niruin asked.  She drew her arms in close and gave a nod. “You were a slave?”

“I was, yes. But I escaped and came here, so... I'm free now. That was one of the first things I got fixed when I joined the Guild, you know. My mark.” A smile tugged at her lips again. “I wanted the world to know what I really belong to. Where I truly feel at home.”

He gave a little snort, still exploring her skin with his hands. Concern nagged at him now, though. If she'd been a slave, then... but those concerns died quickly when she rolled over and pinned him to the mattress, her lips hot against his.

She reached down to grip his cock and seemed pleased to find him hard already, her lips parting in a smug grin. “Why, Niruin, you must really like me.”

“I told you, it's hard not to like a lovely young woman.” Niruin groaned aloud when she slid on, pressing one palm against his stomach to steady herself as she started to ride him. Damn, that was hot enough on it's own, but when she arched a little and brought her hands up to tug the bindings off her chest Niruin had to fight not to come then and there.

Her nipples were the same red as her lips, like two garnets dropped in snow, and though her bosom wasn't large by any means Niruin couldn't care less. She was lithe and lean, all bone and muscle, and there was a tension in her every motion that threatened to snap any moment.

There was something wild and dangerous inside her, something lurking in the amber depths of her eyes, and when he met her gaze again he couldn't stop. A strangled cry left him as he arched his back and came, stars swirling in the edges of his vision. He heard her laugh, distantly, and rock against him desperately a few more times as she followed him over the edge, her whole body shuddering.

He swore quietly when she slid off and lay on him, and he brought his hands up to run his fingers through her soft, silver locks. She truly was a fine treasure. Too fine to have belonged to anyone but herself. Niruin frowned a little.

“Where are you from, Eira? Where did you live... before?”

She was quiet and still enough that he wondered if she had fallen asleep again, but then she tilted her head up to face him and smiled. “Cyrodiil, not far from Valenwood. My father owned a farm on the outskirts of a small town. It was... peaceful.” Her eyes took on a distant look.

“My father and Syrus, my oldest brother, they taught me to use a bow when I was small. Mother tried to teach us the magic arts as well, but only... only Aril was any good at them. Actually, he was excellent at them. A natural.” She strummed her fingers against Niruin's chest. “What about you? Do you have any siblings in Valenwood?”

Niruin shifted a little under her and gave a small smile, hoping to ease the tension in the air a little bit. “I have one sister, yes. Nivaeneth. She's... probably married by now.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Mmm... Not really. We didn't have very much in common. I was quite glad to leave that life behind me, Eira. I'm sure everyone is doing just fine without me.” He gave a little laugh. “I'd much rather live like this than spend my days doing honest work. Really. The Thieves Guild is my family now, and Skyrim is my home.”

Eira's brow wrinkled in confusion and Niruin laughed again and cupped her cheek. “It's alright if you miss your family, though. There's nothing wrong with that, either.”

“Mm...” She hummed quietly and curled up against him, closing her eyes. “You make a good point, though. Skyrim is my home now, too.”

 

Several days later, those thoughts were still fresh in Eira's mind as she made her way to the Palace of Kings again. How kind Gerdur and Hod had been to her, when she had been a stranger to them both. How Ralof had smiled and called her his friend, mere hours after their first meeting.

How alive she felt when she was running through the mountains, the cold air filling her lungs as she hunted wild game. How much she loved ridding the more arrogant nobles of their unneeded coin, only to give it to the drunks and beggars they sneered at so damn much. How good it felt to be warm and full and... She felt herself blushing to her ears when those thoughts led to thoughts of Niruin, and how good it had felt to be with him, too. No need for those thoughts now!

She steeled herself and picked up a glass of ale from one of the tables outside the war room, downing it before she strode in to see Ulfric and Galmar, head held high and lips curved into a smile.

“I killed the ice wraith,” she said, eyes darting from the general to the would-be High King. “And took care of some bandits and thieves while I was in Eastmarch, too.” Galmar was scowling, as usual, but Ulfric had a smile in his eyes he was trying to hide. Good. She hoped to prove her kin worthy of admiration.

“Oh, I've heard – I'm impressed, Dragonborn. Galmar had his doubts about you, but I knew you'd pull through. Speak to him about your next assignment, he's going to need your help.”

Eira's nose wrinkled as she looked at Galmar in disdain. “Forgive me, Ulfric, but before I can work with him I must know his reasons for participating in the war effort.”

“Reasons? Hah!” Galmar gave a dry laugh and looked at her. “Since when does a man need a reason to protect his family and defend his homeland? It's you damn outlanders and the Empire that need the reasons. How do we know we can trust you, little elf?”

“Do you hate all races that aren't Nords, general?” Eira asked, keeping her voice low – but it still carried. Ulfric turned to face Galmar as well, but the Jarl remained silent.

“I oppose tyranny,” he said, rolling his shoulders a little as he stood up straight. “I oppose those who tell me how to live, what to think, and what to believe. I'm a man, and Skyrim is man's homeland. That's a fact. A fact I'm proud of. There's no shame in that.” He turned away and walked to the window. “Read your history, elf.”

Eira crossed her arms, fingernails digging through her leather armor as she fought to stay her temper. “I know the history of Skyrim, Nord. I have no ill will toward your people. You would do well to remember that.” She looked to the map on the table, studying it. “What is your aim for the war, Galmar?”

“First we'll kick the Thalmor and their bloody Imperial puppets out of the country. Then we'll rebuild Skyrim into the land she once was.” He moved closer to her, the look in his eyes fierce and frightening enough that Eira had to fight the urge to flee from him.

“When we are done with that, we will take our army to the Dominion, and show those pointy-eared bastards not every man is fit to be their slave.” Galmar eyed her one last time before he left the room, and Eira swore the very air crackled like a storm in his wake.

“I'll speak to him later,” Ulfric said, and Eira shuddered a little as she faced the Jarl again.

“It's not just him. I'm afraid many of your people feel the same way about my kin, Ulfric.” She still wondered about Ulfric himself, but if he shared the sentiment he had been careful to say nothing in her presence. “I doubt any words will change his opinion, but I don't care what he thinks of me.”

She held her head high and ignored how the old brand on her shoulder burned. “I want to defend my home, too. That's why I'm joining your Stormcloaks, Ulfric. Skyrim should be free – her people should be free. All of her people.”

“Go take the oath, then – we can talk more later, Dragonborn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, where to start with the notes for this chapter?  
> First of all, I don't write sex scenes often. I decided to include it because I wanted to get more practice and, well, as I was outlining this story I realized it just made sense to have it in here. I'm trying to keep it tasteful and the focus of this story is definitely not on the sex, but it's part of the story all the same.
> 
> Secondly, I started writing this for Nanowrimo this year as a way to jump headfirst back into writing. It's been a while since I wrote prose, my original works haven't been working with me, and this story just fell in my lap as I was playing Skyrim for the first time last month. I felt a need to write it, though I wasn't sure why.
> 
> Now I am.  
> Eira's voice - her dreams, her desires, her fears... they're feeling very real to me right now. I wrote this chapter days ago, but I read it again to give myself the strength I needed tonight. I still feel a little lost, but I'm going to try and channel Eira as much as I can and hold my head high no matter what gets thrown at me.
> 
> And fanfic or not, the world needs more stories about people like her - the poor, wayfaring strangers, lost in strange lands. She is, after all, an illegal immigrant in a country where a lot of people want to throw her out.  
> But she's also the one with the power to save it - by letting her Voice be heard.
> 
> I think that's a pretty important message to put out right now.
> 
> Stay strong, friends. Don't let the bad stuff in the world get you down - be part of the good that's left in it.


	4. Dark Falls

 Dark Falls

21st of Sun's Dusk, 4E 201

 

“So, Sapphire, can I do anything for you? Or... more to the point, to you?”

“Vipir the Fleet... Hah, I think you're the only man foolish enough to name himself after his bedroom prowess.”

Niruin snorted, nearly spitting mead all over the bar. Vipir's attempts at wooing were usually painful to eavesdrop on, but that was... “You stupid cow! You don't know what you're missing.”

“No, but I know that you're going to turn up missing if you keep talking to me like that.” Sapphire shook her head and headed off into the Ratway, and Vipir groaned and took a seat at the bar. Niruin almost felt sorry for Vipir. Almost.

Vekel gave Vipir a sideways glance as he filled a tankard with ale and slid it over to him. “Thanks, Vekel. You're the man.”

“Perhaps you should be less direct next time?” Niruin offered, sipping his mead again. “I mean, in my experience I've found that women tend to respond better when you've been kind to them.”

“I don't need your advice, little elf.” Vipir's cheeks were red with embarrassment, though. “When was the last time you were with a woman, eh? Bet it's been a while.”

“It's been a longer while for you, I'm sure,” Niruin lowered his empty tankard and wiped his lips clean. He remembered how hot Eira's mouth had felt pressed against his, and... damn, he could use a dip in the lake. He had hardly seen her since that night in Winterhold, much less had a chance to ask her if she'd be interested in another such encounter.

Niruin shifted in his seat and sighed. Vipir was giving him a curious look now. “So who's the little minx, then? She must have been pretty damn good.”

“I don't kiss and tell, Vipir – besides, I doubt she'd be interested in you.” He got up after that and stretched a little. Some archery practice would probably work wonders in clearing his head of those pesky thoughts and concerns. It always did.

He was still counting arrows and checking their fletching when he saw Eira enter the Cistern and walk over to Mercer's desk – and though the Guildmaster tried to keep his voice down, Niruin heard a few things loud and clear.

So, Karliah was the one causing all this trouble for the Guild. Niruin's grip on his bow was tight as he took aim at one of the training dummies and let his arrow fly. He remembered her, of course – he had come to the Guild when Karliah was still one of the highest ranking in their order. And he vividly recalled the night Mercer Frey had returned and told everyone she had murdered their old Guildmaster, Gallus, and had betrayed them all.

“If only we knew where to find her...”

“Apparently Karliah mentioned something about going to the place where the end began, whatever that means.”

“There's only one place that could be. Snow Veil Sanctum... the ruin where she murdered Gallus. We have to catch her there before she disappears again.”

“We? You don't mean...”

“Yes, you're coming with me and together we're going to kill her. Prepare yourself, Eira, and meet me at Snow Veil Sanctum as soon as you can. We can't let her slip through our fingers.”

Mercer wanted Eira to go with him? Now that was a surprise... Niruin had been under the impression that Mercer was rather unimpressed with her despite her standing with Brynjolf, Vex, and Delvin. Mercer was hard to read, though – despite having worked under him for twenty-five years, Niruin hardly knew anything about him.

But he trusted him to see this one through, especially if Eira was going with him.

Niruin approached her in silence as she started to go through her things, stowing some valuables away in the chest at the foot of her bed to make room for more food and potions. She paused when she noticed him and looked up at him. “Sorry, Nir, I don't have a lot of time to talk right now.”

“I know, you seem to have been very busy. It's alright – I don't mind. Just do me a favor, will you?” He dropped a quiver full of elven arrows in front of her, and her eyes widened a bit in surprise. “Give one of these to Karliah for me, and we can talk about a suitable reward when you get back.”

Eira's eyes gleamed wickedly when she grinned at him. “Sure, I'll see what I can do.”

 

He was still up, practicing, when Mercer came back alone.

“I'm so sorry, Brynjolf. There was nothing I could do. We made it through all the traps she set for us just fine, but... Eira never saw that ambush coming. That arrow was meant for me, damn it! That bitch is going to pay for this, mark my words. I won't rest until she's dead!”

“So that's it, then? She's...” Brynjolf's voice wavered a little.

“I'm sorry,” Mercer repeated, his tone flat. “She was showing so much promise, too. You were right about her, but... I guess that doesn't matter anymore.” Niruin felt a numb chill settle over him. Gone. Eira was gone, just like that. His hands shook as he lowered his bow and made his way to the Flagon. He needed a drink. A very strong drink.

“Damn. Maybe you're right, Delvin. We really are cursed.”

“Aye, the gods must think this is a great joke – giving us such a damn good thief only to take her away from us when things were getting good again.”

Niruin took a seat at the bar without meeting anyone's gaze and pulled a handful of coins from his pocket. “I don't care what you bring me, just make sure it's the strongest drink you have available.” Vekel came back with two tankards full of Black-Briar Reserve.

“Real shame, what happened to Brynjolf's protege.” Vekel sighed, only picking up a couple of the coins. “I'm sorry, friend.”

One swig of the mead was enough to dull his senses. Damn, that was the good stuff. He took a few more for good measure, and barely noticed Vex moving to sit next to him until she clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You doing okay?”

“What do you mean? I'm...” he sighed and downed another swallow. “I'm fine, Vex. I just think it's a damn shame the gods want to toy with us like this.”

“I'm not an idiot, Niruin. I know you guys were a thing.” Vex frowned and let go of his shoulder, but kept her voice quiet. “You were too happy when you came back from that Winterhold job to have spent the whole trip freezing your ass off.” She downed the last of her own ale and sighed. “I'm sorry. That's what I'm trying to say, I guess. I'm just really bad at this.”

Niruin stared into the tankard and swirled the mead around. The next swallow felt hot on his tongue, and he struggled to choke back a sob. Maybe getting drunk hadn't been the best idea. “We weren't a thing, you know. Not really. It was just... just one night, Vex.”

“Yeah, but you liked her.” Vex shook her head and got up. “I told you, I'm not an idiot.”

By the time he finished the second tankard, he was too drunk to stand up straight. It did the trick, though. He was out cold before he knew what happened, and his sleep was dark and dreamless.

Morning was a nightmare, though.

“You look like shit, man.” Cynric never was one to mince words. Niruin groaned and pressed his head to the table, trying not to gag at the smell of breakfast cooking. “I mean, I've seen shit that looked better than you do right now.”

“I know, right? I'm pretty sure I've never seen the elf get that drunk before. Must've lost a bet or something.” Vipir laughed, but it was mirthless. The whole Guild had been sullen all morning. Rune glanced over from where he was stirring the stew. Niruin didn't like the pity he saw in the Breton's blue eyes.

“I don't know, Vipir. I think it was something else.”

“If you don't stop talking I'm going to kill all of you, not just Karliah,” Niruin warned. They were blissfully silent after that.

 

“I'm going to kill Mercer Frey,” Eira groaned, gripping the roll of bedfurs tight as Karliah tugged on her bandages.

“Easy, now. I'll have these fixed in a moment, then we can go.”

“Damn double-crossing dirty bastard...” The wound in her side still hurt like hell, despite all the magic and healing potions Karliah had used on her. It made for a damn tough trek north, and the final destination for the night didn't help any. The room she bought for herself at the Frozen Hearth to rest in while she waited for Karliah to fetch Enthir from the College was the very same one she had shared with Niruin nearly a month before.

She really hadn't meant to keep him waiting so long – there had just been too many things to take care of elsewhere. Even now she was putting off things she was supposed to be doing in favor of dealing with Mercer's treason and seeing Gallus avenged at last.

Gallus. The man grew more interesting all the time. Eira ran her hands over the cover of his journal before cracking it open, wanting to study the contents. “It's written in some sort of language I've never seen before,” Karliah had said.

However, Eira only had to look at the strange, flowing letters for a few moments to realize they looked familiar. She brushed over them with her fingers, trying to remember where she had seen something like them before...

“If only we could read the contents, right?” Karliah mused. Eira jumped a little, startled by her sudden appearance. “I'm sorry, I should have made more noise.”

“It's alright,” Eira smiled. “I have light feet, too.”

Karliah smiled and gave a nod. “I noticed. Enthir's waiting in the cellar now, if you're ready to meet with him. He wants to take a look at that journal.”

“Right,” Eira looked down at the letters again, and Karliah crouched down in front of her, hands curling up over Eira's own.

“Is everything alright?” she asked. “It's not your wounds, is it?”

“No, those are fine. Really.” Eira pulled her hands away and closed the journal. “Let's go see Enthir – I want to figure out this book as much as you do, Karliah. So we can both go back to the Guild. Gods alone know what Mercer's even up to...”

“Well, he still thinks you're dead. That might give us a small advantage.”

Eira stood up, holding the journal against her as she swayed a little. Dead. That's right, Mercer thought he'd killed her. “He probably told the Guild you murdered me,” Eira realized. “Damn.”

“Probably. He'll do whatever it takes to get me out of the picture.” Karliah crossed her arms and sighed, turning to leave the room. “We should go speak to Enthir. I don't want to keep you up all night when you still need to rest up.”

“I need to stick Mercer where it hurts,” Eira huffed. She did, however, follow Karliah to the inn's cellar to meet with Gallus's old friend from the College of Mages. His brow wrinkled as he leaned over the journal, turning the pages with great care as he studied the marks on them.

“Ah, this is just like Gallus. A dear friend, but always too clever for his own good. He wrote this in the Falmer language.”

“Can you translate it?” Karliah asked.

“No, but... I know someone that might be able to. The court wizard of Markarth, Calcelmo, might have what you need to translate it, but he's a fierce guardian of his research. Getting the information from him won't be easy...”

“Why would Gallus write his journal in Falmer?” Eira asked. She was curious, now.

“Besides the fact that there's only a handful of people in Tamriel that even recognize the language? I'm fairly certain he was planning a heist that required a deep understanding of the Falmer. Sadly, we never got a chance to talk about it in detail.”

“Where did Gallus learn it?”

“Ironically, I pointed him in the same direction I pointed you. I just hope whatever means he used to learn the language will still be available to you.”

“Markarth,” Karliah sighed. “I suppose we had best get going, then.”

 

A week later, Eira was the one poured over a desk at the Silver-Blood inn in Markarth, the stolen rubbing of Calcelmo's research laid out before her as she flipped through the journal. It was frustrating, being so close to the answer but still so far. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed, leaning back into the chair.

“I'm sure Enthir can decode it for us,” Karliah mused, turning to look at Eira from where she sat in the window. “You've done more than enough already – you should rest.”

“I'm fine,” Eira insisted. “I think it's interesting, actually. I just wish I had come here for different reasons.”

“You sound like Gallus.” Karliah's lips turned up in a small smile as she gazed into the distance. “He was always studying new things like this. I found him burning the midnight oil many a night, bent over a book or scribbling notes in some journal...”

Eira turned around, resting her head on her arms as she looked at Karliah over the back of her chair. “It sounds like he was a very interesting man.”

“He never could sit still,” Karliah agreed. “He always felt more comfortable breaking in through a window than bent over a dusty tome. But he was a man of many talents.” She looked at Eira, dark violet eyes seeming to pierce her very soul. She was silent for several moments before she spoke again. “He would have loved you.”

“I wish I could have met him,” Eira told her. “I'm sorry all this happened.”

“I'm sorry Mercer pulled you into this mess,” Karliah sighed. “It must be difficult to have such a burden on your shoulders, and you so young...”

Eira laughed a little and stood up to stretch and put her things away. If Karliah even knew half of it... She smiled as she folded up the paper key and tucked it in the back of the journal. “It's alright, Karliah. I can handle it. You deserve justice, and Gallus deserves vengeance. If I can be a part of that... I'm glad to help, trust me.”

“And I'm very glad to have your help, thank you. Perhaps... well, we can discuss more after we've gotten that journal translated.”

They made haste back to Winterhold despite Karliah insisting Eira needed to take it easy. Enthir decoded the journal with ease – but Eira knew the old scholar had much more practice at that sort of thing. However, the contents of the journal hardly seemed to comfort Karliah at all.

“Shadows preserve us. So it's true...”

“What is it? What has Mercer Frey done?” Enthir asked, but Karliah shook her head.

“I'm sorry, Enthir. You are a dear friend... but you already know more than you should. All that matters is that we deliver this translation to the Guild as soon as we can.” Eira could hear the waver in Karliah's voice as the elder mer bowed her head. “Words can't express...”

“It's alright, Karliah.” Enthir handed the journal back to her. “You don't have to say a word.”

 

The night they returned to Riften, Karliah pressed a sheathed blade into Eira's hands. “I want you to have this. It belonged to Gallus, but... given the circumstances, I think he would approve.”

Eira smiled. “I'll put it to good use.”

They counted their remaining arrows and halved them, too – preparing for the worst, should it happen. Eira couldn't help but smirk as she gave Karliah a handful of her elven arrows. “You know, a friend of mine wanted me to give one of these to you. I'm pretty sure this isn't quite how he meant for me to go about it, though.”

“I'm pretty sure you're right,” Karliah said, but she did laugh. “Who was it?”

“Niruin – do you remember him?” She threw her quiver over her shoulder and glanced toward the walls of the city. She wondered how he was faring in the wake of Mercer's news...

“The name is familiar – he's from Valenwood, isn't he? Can't say I spoke with him often.”

“Yeah. He's good with a bow, but terrible at picking locks.” Eira snorted a little, then sobered up. “He was pissed at you before all this came to pass... they all were. I hope we can convince them to listen to us.”

“Keep your eyes open,” was all Karliah said as she led the way into the city. “I'm not sure what will happen when we enter the Flagon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some slight canon divergence here - but I wanted Karliah to tag along for the journey. I like her character a lot, and I could see her being motherly toward Eira. I also really like Gallus based on what little we learn of him from the game, so... I figured Karliah was the best possible source for some further insight on his character.
> 
> Honestly I wish there was time to cover more backstory stuff for the side characters in the Guild, haha. I really do love all of them. 
> 
> (I love the Dark Brotherhood, too, but they won't be showing up for some time yet, haha.)


	5. Old Scars, New Scars

Old Scars, New Scars

1st of Evening Star, 4E 201

 

Niruin was prepared to kill Karliah on sight if they crossed paths again – he'd been planning on it, in fact, though he knew it was likely Mercer or Brynjolf would kill her before he even got a chance to take aim. However, he had not been prepared for her to come to the Flagon...

And he certainly hadn't been prepared for Eira to come in with her and stand in the way.

She was alive. How was that possible? Mercer wouldn't have lied to them about her death. He had no reason to. Niruin inhaled sharply as Brynjolf approached Eira, but his hands shook as he held his bow. If it came to a fight...

Niruin looked away as he lowered his weapon. He couldn't do this – he couldn't hurt her. He wanted to run to her side even now, but he couldn't do that, either.

“You'd better have a damn good reason to be here with that murderer,” Brynjolf whispered, his voice a hushed warning.

“Please, lower your weapons so we can speak.” Karliah held her hands up. “We have proof that you've all been misled!”

Brynjolf hesitated, but after glancing toward Eira one more time he sheathed his blade. “No tricks, Karliah. I'll cut you down where you stand if this is a trick.”

“It's no trick.” Karliah pulled a book out of her bag and passed it to Brynjolf. “This is Gallus's journal, and a translation of what it says. I'm sure you'll find the contents... disturbing.”

“Let me see that,” Brynjolf took the book and flipped through it's pages, and Niruin jumped a little in surprise as the Nord cursed and took a step back. “No, this can't be true. I've known Mercer too long...”

“And what did Mercer tell you happened to me?” Eira asked, her voice stiff with anger. “He though I was done for, so he must have come up with something to explain how I died.”

“It's true, Brynjolf. Every word.”

Brynjolf was quiet for several long moments, clearly disturbed. “There's only one way to find that out. Delvin, I need you to help me open the Vault.”

“Wait just a blessed moment, Bryn. What's in the book? What's it say?”

“It says Mercer's been stealing from the Vault for years, Delvin! Gallus was looking into it when he was murdered.”

“How's he open a lock that needs two keys? He couldn't pick his way in, could he?”

“No way,” Vex huffed. “That door has the best lock money could buy, that's impossible.”

And yet, the impossible had happened. The Vault was empty. Every coin, every gem, every scrap of treasure... gone. Niruin peered in from behind Vex and Delvin as the others crowded in close, the dripping of water in the Cistern the only sound in the whole room for several moments.

Then Vex drew her knife and gripped the hilt tight, giving a low growl as her eyes fixed on the door. “That son of a bitch! I'll kill him! Where is he?!”

It was a sentiment the whole Guild shared, though Brynjolf urged them to keep their heads and stay calm while the higher-ups figured things out. He hadn't expected Eira to be included in that group, though when she took off with Brynjolf and Karliah...

Well, Niruin didn't know what to expect anymore, really. He sighed and found somewhere to sit, folding his hands together and pressing his lips against them.

“I never saw this coming,” Cynric sounded absolutely stunned. “I thought we were just having a run of bad luck.”

“What about Karliah? How can she remain so calm when Mercer had her on the run for so long? Amazing.”  Rune was clearly in awe of the woman. Actually, Niruin was, too. That took some skill, staying on the run that long without getting caught.

“I won't rest until Mercer's dead.” Thyrnn was definitely pissed. “How could he murder Gallus and betray all of us like that?”

After listening to the others go on like that for a while, though... Niruin realized he was very, very tired. There was still a bundle of knots twisting about in his stomach, but he doubted he could stay up until things settled down. Sure enough, despite all the fussing throughout the Cistern, Niruin managed to muffle the noise with his pillow and soon gave in to the darkness he found in his bedfurs.

He stirred, though, when he felt someone lay down beside him and press up against his back. A quiet, muffled sigh soon followed and he relaxed when he recognized the voice. “Eira? Is that you?”

“I'm sorry to wake you,” she mumbled. “It's been a long night. Been a long week, actually.”

“I'm sure,” Niruin mused, yawning as he stretched a little. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah... but I could really go for a drink right about now.”

Niruin gave a soft laugh and rolled over, eyebrows quirking up as he studied her form – almost unrecognizable under the new, pitch black armor she was wearing. Curious. “You do realize it what time it is, right?”

“Yeah, it's five in the morning.” She tugged the mask down from her face and flashed him a smile. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Niruin snorted and gave her an amused look. “No, I guess not. The Bee and the Barb, then?”

“Sounds wonderful.”

 

The innkeeper frowned a little when they came in and ordered their mead, but Eira was used to getting funny looks when she wandered into buildings at strange hours... and weirder things had probably happened. What mattered was how sweet the mead tasted after such a night, and how warm it felt as it settled in her stomach.

She soon found the honey tasted even sweeter on Niruin's tongue. His lips were smooth and hot against her skin, softer than she remembered them... but when he pressed her to the bed and held her close, she smirked against them as she felt how hard he was in the right places.

She pulled away to look at him while she unclasped the straps on his armor. His cheeks were flushed and ruddy, and his eyes gleamed golden in the dim light as he met her gaze. “Damn,” he swore quietly. She heard him inhale sharply before his lips caught hers again.

She moaned into the kiss and gave his shirt a hard tug, yanking it open so she could press her palms against the taut skin of his stomach. He groaned aloud as she teased him, trailing her hands up to wrap them around his neck. Then his teeth were grazing her ear and she shuddered when felt heat rush straight to her core. “Shit!”

“Oh, you like that, don't you...?” Niruin chuckled, sounding far too pleased with himself. Eira gave a little huff and tangled a hand in his hair as she leaned in and kissed his neck. Two could play that game, right?

When she bit at his ear, he gripped her tight and gasped, pressing hard against her. “Oh, fuck, that's...” He shivered a little as pulled away, and Eira whined at the loss, but then his hands were seeking out the clasps to her armor so she bit her lip and waited for him to continue.

But then he stopped again instead, his eyes fixed on the bandages wrapped around her middle. He frowned, fingers ghosting over where the white cloth was still stained dark with fresh blood. “Is this where...”

“Mercer stabbed me?” She gave a wry laugh. “Yeah. It's still... sore.”

Niruin's eyes met hers again, his brow wrinkled with worry. “It still looks pretty bad. Are you sure you're up for this sort of thing? We don't have to, you know...”

Eira shivered, heat rushing to her cheeks as she pulled him down to silence him with a kiss. She felt him tense up in surprise, which made her laugh against his lips and tangle her hand in his hair again. She drug her teeth against his lower lip as she hooked her legs around his hips and pressed up against him, hard.

He let out a strangled whine, pressing back, and she smirked at how easy it was to make him come undone. “It's okay, Nir. I'm fine – I fought a giant spider last week. I think I can handle your cock...” Niruin closed his eyes and shivered as her hands moved to the front of his pants to tug them open.

“Eira... gods, I...” He tensed up and groaned when she ran her fingers up the length of him. She gave another breathless laugh and leaned in to kiss below his ear again. “Stop that, Eira, I don't want to come yet!”

He cupped her hips with one hand, the other finding her cheek as he kissed her. It was slow and soft and... surprisingly gentle, his tongue kneading hers as his fingers brushed her skin. She shivered and moaned when he finally tugged at the front of her pants, working them off her.

He was careful when he entered her, too, she could tell – the angle was precise, ensuring that her wounds wouldn't rub against the mattress or his body as he moved. She cursed softly at the first gentle roll of his hips, and whined when he kept his pace slow and easy.

It was a struggle for him, clearly. He was panting and his kisses soon grew rough and needy. But he kept his pace until she was tense and shuddering beneath him and crying out in another tongue, making the walls shake around them. Only then did he curse and give a few quick thrusts to follow her, his seed spurting out in hot bursts inside her.

He rested over her for a moment, catching his breath. But there was a draft in the room, and she shivered as it cut through the sheen of sweat on her skin. Niruin gave a soft huff and pulled out, tugging the furs around them as he held her against him, her head tucked under his chin as his hands rested against the small of her back.

He was the first to break the silence after, a soft sigh leaving him. “Are you really alright?” he asked, his voice wavering a little. “I mean... it looks really painful, Eira. It must hurt pretty bad.”

“It hurt worse a week ago, I swear. It's getting better.” Eira swallowed and pressed her face against his shoulder, hot tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes. “You didn't hurt me, Nir. It felt really good, I promise.”

“Then... wait, why are you crying? You're not lying, are you?” The worry in his tone was clear as day, and Eira quickly shook her head as she clung to him.

“I'm fine, really. It's just... no one's ever asked me how I felt before. No one's ever cared if they hurt me. But you did. You would've stopped if I'd asked you to.” Niruin's hands moved up her back slowly, rubbing in circles to ease her quiet sobs. “No one's... ever... been so gentle.”

“I'm sorry,” he sighed. “Damn, if I had known... I would've been more careful with you the first time I had you. You should have told me.”

Eira gripped his shoulders and tilted her head to catch his lips in a quick kiss. When she pulled away, she met his gaze with her own. “Niruin, please. I wanted you. I wouldn't have let you touch me if I hadn't wanted you to.”

“Right,” he relaxed a little, but a frown still tugged at his lips. He hesitated before speaking again, his words cautious. “I'm sure the Dragonborn could handle someone like me quite easily.”

She stiffened. “What? How did you...”

Niruin gave a dry laugh. “You didn't notice? Just now – that was a Shout, was it not? The thing you did with your voice when you...”

Eira felt heat rise in her cheeks again. “Shit, did I really... gods, Niruin, are you alright?” As concerned as he'd been for her, that really could have hurt him badly. But he was laughing, now, and it felt nice when he ran his fingers through her hair. He leaned back to study her for a moment, a curious glint in his eyes. She wondered what he was thinking.

“You grow more intriguing all the time,” he mused aloud. “I never thought... I mean, you're not exactly what I pictured when I overheard the guards talking about the dragon-slayer.”

She rolled her eyes a little and glanced aside. “Why? Because I'm small? I'm not a delicate flower, Niruin, I can handle myself.”

“Because you're a Bosmer,” he whispered. She could still feel his gaze on her, and when she looked at him again his brow was wrinkled with confusion as well as worry. “I always assumed the Dragonborn would be a Nord, you know? Not... one of my kin.”

Eira smiled gently and cupped his cheek for a moment, and was glad when he took the hint and leaned in to kiss her again. When he broke away she gave a tired laugh and pressed her forehead to his. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's why the guards in these parts keep talking about him the way they do. It's me, though.”

“Is that why you try so hard to help everyone?” Niruin asked. “Because you're supposed to be the hero of Skyrim?”

“I help people because it's the right thing to do. I hate to see people suffering like I did for so long, before I came here. If I can do anything to help them...” She took a deep breath, only releasing it when Niruin held her close again. “There has to be some reason I survived all this. I mean, really.”

Eira laughed and pressed her face against his shoulder. She had never believed in that sort of thing before, but after spending some time with Karliah... hell, after meeting Nocturnal and being inducted as a Nightingale, she was willing to start believing in luck being a boon granted to those in the god's favor.

“Lady luck is with me now, I guess,” she whispered. She smiled at Niruin and brushed her fingers up his back and into his copper-colored hair. “Though some might say she guided me here from the start of all this. Hah! It must be a great joke, don't you think? Putting me on the headsman's block, just to save me by sending a dragon to destroy the city...”

“I think you need to sleep,” Niruin told her, his lips pressing softly against the top of her head. “Though I would love to hear more about all that in the... well, when you wake up.”

“I'll tell you all about it next time,” she promised. “I have to a bargain to keep when I get up – and I still owe the Guildmaster his cut of the deal.”

“It's a large cut, I hope.” Niruin laughed, his fingers still trailing up her back. “Actually, if you need more arrows... I've got plenty with Mercer's name on them.”

“I stocked up already,” Eira said. “But don't worry – Karliah and I both still have some of the arrows you gave me. It's pretty likely at least one of them will stick Mercer where it hurts.”

A smirk tugged at his lips as he pulled away to look at her again. “You little sabre cat... You gave her my arrows.”

“Half of them, to be exact – thought that might amuse you.”

Niruin laughed. “Oh, I'm amused. Just be sure to remind me about our little bargain when you get back from... well, doing your business with Mercer.”

“I will,” Eira promised.

Darkness was sweet when it claimed her, but waking was anything but. She was sore all over, aching pleasantly in some spots and unpleasantly in others – but she was glad to find Niruin still spooning her gently, his breath slow and even as he slept.

She shifted a little and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Eira smiled when he stirred, eyes cracking open to look at her. He gave a little sigh. When he spoke, his voice was slightly rough. “Fixing to head out, are you?”

“Yeah... Bryn and Karliah will be waiting for me.”

“Best be off, then,” he mused, reaching out to give her hands a gentle squeeze. “Be careful.”

Eira kissed him again, flashing a bit of a smirk as she pulled away. “I'm stronger than I look, Nir. You should know this by now, truly. I've saved your ass more than once - ”

“Hush,” he said, giving an indignant huff as he pulled her in for one more kiss, this one fierce and desperate. “The walls have ears in Riften – damn it! Be safe, that's all I'm saying. Mercer's a dangerous bastard.”

Eira cupped the sides of his face and pressed her forehead to his. “I know,” she sighed. “Karliah once said crossing swords with him would be a death sentence... but I've been sentenced to death before and survived.”

“Lady luck is on your side,” Niruin mused. His lips turned up into a smile, but it didn't shine in his eyes. “You should go meet the others before she decides to leave you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I must say that both my beta reader and I cracked up at the line about the spider that happens in the middle of the sex scene. Of course, in-game I did the quest to kill the giant spider for Calcelmo to get the lab key from him legitimately. Since I am trying to keep things more realistic here (it will take Eira a while to get over a near-mortal wound from Mercer, I should think) I will add that she sniped the spider from a hidden spot in the cave, so she wasn't just flat out brawling it. But Niruin doesn't need to know that.
> 
> Also... I've been trying to handle Eira's backstory delicately. She was a slave, she was used in horrible ways, but she's trying to move on and leave all that behind her. It does directly factor in to her need and desire to help others, and her need to be seen as someone strong. I feel like she's not one to dwell on her past and let it rule her, but it's still there.
> 
> I do love writing snarky thieves, though. The amount of wit, word-play, and puns I get to mess with? It never gets old.


	6. Honor

Honor

2nd of Evening Star, 4E 201

 

“Look at the size of this place. Have you ever seen anything like it in your life, lass?” Brynjolf's voice was filled with wonder, Eira couldn't keep a smile from her face as she followed the Nord's gaze around the grand, underground chambers that spread out before them.

“Can't say that I have,” Karliah mused, her own voice quiet. “Imagine the riches hidden within these walls...”

Despite the circumstances that had brought the new trinity of Nightingales to the ruins of Irkngthand, they were still thieves. Eira wasn't sure the same could be said of Mercer – the massacre they had found just inside the building were still burned into her memory. Bandits or not, that much bloodshed had been needless.

As they crept deeper into the ruin, however, a horrid stench of musk and old rot filled the air. It burned Eira's nose and made her eyes water. Behind her, Brynjolf gave a quiet groan. “This place reeks of Falmer.”

“This must be their hive,” Karliah agreed. “We'll have to keep silent if we want to avoid drawing their attention.”

The next room they passed through had clearly once been a torture chamber, and Eira felt a chill creep up her spine as she took in the scene. One of the tables even still had a body on it, though it had been there for a very long time. The poor thing's limbs were twisted in pain, something Karliah took note of as well.

“The Falmer didn't deserve the pain these implements must have inflicted. The dwarves were a cruel race.”

When they finally found where the twisted creatures were hiding, Eira inhaled softly as she drew her bow taut and took aim. She sent them to their deaths in swift silence, and prayed they would find peace in that darkness.

She would not grant Mercer such mercy.

Eira kept her fingers wrapped tight around her bow as they continued into the depths of the cavern, the sound of water rushing through the pipes an annoyance as well as a blessing. It masked the sound of their footsteps, especially Brynjolf's – who was not as light on his feet as the mer that accompanied him. However, it also made it difficult to listen for danger that might lurk ahead.

“He's close,” Karliah whispered as they came around a corner, eyes fixed on the door that loomed before them. “I'm certain of it. We must prepare ourselves.”

“Aye,” Brynjolf nodded. “This is it, then. We do this for Gallus and the Guild.”

Eira wrapped her hand around the door's handle and pulled it open carefully, trying to stay quiet. Karliah and Brynjolf followed close behind her, and Karliah drew in a sharp breath when she spied Mercer at the top of the great Falmer statue. He was still chipping away at the bronze around the large white gem that rested in the socket of the statue's eye, trying to free it. It seemed he had already swiped the other one.

“He hasn't seen us yet,” Karliah whispered. “Brynjolf, watch the door.”

“Aye, lass. Nothing's getting by me.”

“Eira, climb down that ledge and see if you can...” Karliah never got to finish her order, however, as the moment Eira's feet were on the ledge it broke away and fell, dropping Eira into the water pooling at the statue's base.

“Karliah, when will you learn that you can't get the drop on me?” Mercer yanked the second gem from the statue and disappeared, the very air crackling throughout the chamber. Eira winced as the sound hurt her ears, feeling disoriented by the constant noise. “I'll deal with you after I rid myself of your irksome companions. Perhaps you and Brynjolf should get better acquainted?”

Eira heard a scuffle on the ledge above her, followed by Brynjolf groaning in frustration as he drew his blade. “What's... happening? I'm not doing this!”

“Fight it, Brynjolf... He's taken control of you!”

“I'm sorry, lass... I...” Eira heard the sound of metal clinking against armor. “I can't stop!”

“Damn you, Mercer!”

Damn him, indeed. Eira drew an elven arrow from her quiver and readied her bow, eyes searching the chamber for any sign of Mercer. As soon as he revealed himself... Eira stiffened, however, when she felt arms encircle her and hot breath on the back of her neck. Shit!

“You know, when Brynjolf brought you before me I felt a sudden shift in the wind. And I knew, in that moment, that this would end with one of us at the end of a blade.”

Eira clenched her jaw, hands shaking far too much for her to feign confidence. “Give me the Key, Mercer.”

He gave a wry laugh, gripping her sides hard enough to bruise. “What's Karliah been filling your head with? Tales of thieves with honor? Oaths rife with falsehoods and broken promises? Nocturnal doesn't care about you, the Key, or anything having to do with the Guild!”

“It's not just about Nocturnal,” Eira said, voice dripping with venom. She yanked herself free from his grasp and turned to face him, drawing the bowstring taut again as she took aim once more. “This is personal.”

Mercer's eyes glinted as he drew his sword, Key still brandished in his other hand. “Revenge, is it? Have you learned nothing from your time with us? When will you open your eyes?” She let the arrow fly, but Mercer disappeared again before it struck him. A crack like thunder sounded in his wake, and Eira cried out in pain as it deafened her temporarily – her ears felt like they might bleed!

Eira backed up against the wall quickly, feet sloshing through the rising water. Perhaps that would offer a bit of protection? She doubted Mercer was stupid enough to try materializing inside stone. She drew another arrow, but cursed as her hands kept shaking. “Damn!”

Mercer jumped through the waterfall a few feet beside her, sword raised. Eira ducked quickly and blocked his blade with her bow, dodging the attack as it glanced off to one side. Mercer grabbed her by the armor and pulled her close, grimacing. “Both of us lie, cheat and steal to further our own end! There's no difference between us!”

Eira kicked and gave a shout, blasting him against the wall. His eyes were wide with surprise – good. He hadn't expected that. “The difference is I still have honor,” Eira spat. “You don't!”

“It's clear you'll never see the Skeleton Key as an instrument of limitless wealth,” Mercer huffed, giving his shoulders a roll as he stepped forward. His movements were stiff, though. That blast had done some damage. “Instead you've chosen to fall for the sake of a foolish code.”

“You're the one destined to fall here, Mercer.” Eira cast aside her ruined bow, reaching for her sword and shield in it's place.

“Then the die is cast,” Mercer mused, water splashing up around his knees as he moved into a ready stance, prepared to lunge. “My blade will taste Nightingale blood once again!”

The air crackled, but this time Eira smirked. She still had one final ace up her sleeve. She took a deep breath, her palm growing hot around the hilt of her weapon, it's power reacting to Mercer's presence. There. She lunged sideways and stabbed at the air.

Mercer screamed as he appeared, blade plunged deep in his chest. His hand clasped around the hilt and his eyes widened when he finally saw the insignia it bore there – the Nightingale's sigil. “Shadows take me...” Mercer groaned, falling to his knees.

Then his eyes widened and a strangled gasp left him. He fell forward into the water, an arrow protruding from the center of his back. Eira followed it's path to find Karliah standing on the ledge above her. “Shadows consume you, Mercer.”

Before Eira could speak, there was a great rumble, and the water suddenly started gushing out of the pipes with even more force than before. “Damn, this place is coming down! Quick, Eira, we need to get out of here!”

“No luck this way,” Brynjolf shouted, pressing up against the door with all his weight. “Something must have fallen on the other side, this door isn't even moving!”

“There must be another way out,” Karliah groaned as Eira swam over to her. The water was already up to the ledge and still rising. “This place is filling with water...”

“I'm not blind, lass. Did you get the Key, Eira?”

Eira swiped hair back from her eyes and nodded. “The Key, the Eyes, and his wallet. Got Gallus's blade back, too.”

Brynjolf did chuckle at that, but it was tinged with worry. Considering that the water was nearly at his waist now, though, Eira could hardly blame him. “A true thief you are, lass. I knew there was something special about you the moment we met, but to think... to think you would come this far? Why, I'm honored to have known you!”

“Brynjolf...” Eira huffed, feeling heat rise to her cheeks from his praise.

“No, lass, I'm serious.” He sputtered a bit as the water rose high enough that he had to start swimming, and Karliah gave a nervous laugh herself. “If... If we survive this... Gods, I think it's safe to say you've earned my respect no matter what.”

“We're going to survive this,” Eira huffed, searching what was left of the chamber for anything that might... “There, that looks like an opening!” She started swimming toward the small gap in the ceiling, Karliah's voice hardly more than a whisper behind her.

“Bless you, Lady of Shadows...”

 

Eira studied the ceiling of the cavern as she lay on her back, catching her breath. The water still lapped at the heels of her boots, but it wasn't rising further. They were safe. They had survived.

Brynjolf's bubbling laughter bounced off the walls, but Karliah was much more reserved in her relief. She sighed and sat down beside Eira, sighing as she ran her fingers through her damp, dark locks of hair. “I can't believe it's over,” she whispered. “Twenty-five years in exile... and just like that, it's done. All that remains is to return the Skeleton Key to Nocturnal.”

Eira gave a soft snort of a laugh. “That part should be easy.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not... When the Key was stolen from the Twilight Sepulcher, our access to the inner sanctum was removed. The only way to bring it back will be through the Pilgrim's Path, which wasn't created for the Nightingales. I've never used it, so... I have no idea what challenges you'll have to face.”

“You won't be coming with me?” Eira asked, sitting up a little as Brynjolf came to sit beside her as well, opposite Karliah.

“Brynjolf is needed back at the Thieve's Guild to keep things in order. And after my failure to protect the Key... I can't bear to return to the Sepulcher until Nocturnal has given us her blessing once again. I'm afraid you'll have to end this alone.”

“I'll see it done,” Eira promised.

“Aye, I'm sure you will, lass.” Brynjolf shifted a bit and gave a little sigh, studying her for a moment. Then he smiled. “There is one more thing I wanted to discuss with you, actually. With Mercer dead, the Guild is in need of a new leader... and I think that you deserve that position.”

“What?” Eira was stunned. “Me? Why not you?”

Brynjolf laughed. “I've been at this game a long time, my friend. A long time. I've stolen trinkets from nobles and framed priests for murder. I'm good at what I do, maybe even one of the best...” He sighed, tilting his head as he gazed into the water. “But it's all I know.”

Eira sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, watching Brynjolf as he turned his gaze to her again. There was a strange gleam in his eye, a glint of recognition. “I've never been one to lead. Never desired it, never cared for it. Don't want it. But you have what it takes, I know you do.”

Eira brushed her hair back from her face, tucking a strand behind one of her ears. “I don't know what to say,” she finally mused, still feeling speechless.

“Well, you still have an errand to run before your coronation. Don't get all sentimental on me, now.” He still laughed as Eira tackled him for a hug, patting her back in a gentle, awkward manner. It was an unfamiliar gesture for him, clearly. “Hey, now, what did I just say?”

“I'm not the one getting sentimental,” she huffed. “Thank you, though – I... I'm not sure I'll be any good at this. I'm still so new to all this.”

“What you lack in experience you make up for with tenacity,” Karliah said. “And you'll still have Brynjolf and myself to help you with matters of wisdom. You'll do fine, Nightingale. I can think of no one better for the job.”

Eira felt her cheeks flush again as she pulled away from Brynjolf and stood up, dusting sand from her armor. “I'm honored,” she finally said. “I accept.”

“Wait,” Karliah stood up as well and drew her bow, smiling as she offered it to Eira. “Take this with you. I'm not certain it will help, but... I certainly don't need it as much as you. I've had this bow almost my entire life, and it's never let me down. I hope it brings you the same luck.”

Eira took the bow, shivering a little as she felt the raw power rushing through it. “You're sure you want to give this to me?”

“I'm sure,” Karliah said. “Shadows guide you, Eira.”

“Aye,” Brynjolf agreed, crossing his arms. “And, ah... keep your eyes open.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually a very fun chapter to write - my favorite so far! I love fight scenes, even if they're a challenge to write. 
> 
> The one thing I wish I had been able to work into this chapter better is what I believe was a key motivation for Mercer's betrayal: jealousy. The more I've thought about his character, the more I've come to think he had feelings for Karliah... but was jealous that Gallus had everything he wanted. Power, charisma, and love.
> 
> Of course, Karliah isn't the only one that saw a lot of Gallus in Eira - Mercer did, too, I think. That's why he saw her as a threat.


	7. Hero

Hero

3rd of Evening Star, 4E 201

 

It was a long trek to the beginning of the Pilgrim's Path, but when Eira walked into the chamber she felt a quiet sense of acceptance wash over her. Yes, this was something she was meant to do. It was her sacred duty as a Nightingale, and... more than that, it would finally finish what Gallus started more than twenty five years prior.

His life's work would be accomplished by his new successor.

Eira smiled as she glanced up and saw a ghostly figure approaching – she sensed no malice here, only peace. “I don't recognize you,” the figure said, calm voice echoing in her ears, “but I sense that you are one of us. Who are you?”

“My name is Eira,” she said, head tilting as she studied him. “And you are?”

“The last of the Nightingale Sentinels, I'm afraid. I've defended the Sepulcher alone for what feels like an eternity.”

“The... last?” Eira frowned. “What happened to the others?”

“We were betrayed by one of our own,” the figure shook his head in anger, crossing his arms. His voice wavered when he spoke again. “In fact, I'm to blame for what has happened here.”

Eira's brow furrowed slightly. “How are you to blame?”

“I was blinded. Blinded by dark treachery masquerading as friendship. Perhaps if I had been more vigilant, then Mercer Frey wouldn't have lured me to my fate and stolen the Skeleton Key!”

“Wait a moment,” Eira breathed, eyes going wide. “You're Gallus, aren't you?”

The spirit tilted his head in surprise. “I haven't heard that name in a long time. How do you know of me?”

Eira couldn't hold in a soft laugh as she pulled her mask down to grin at him. “Many still think highly of you, Guildmaster. I've heard a lot about you from my friends at the Guild... especially Karliah. She told me a lot about you.”

“Karliah!” Gallus sounded truly stunned. “She's... still alive? I feared she had fallen victim to Mercer's betrayal, just as I did. His jealousy turned him so bitter...”

“She's alive,” Eira promised, a smile tugging at her lips. “She helped me find the Key.”

“The Key! You have the Key?!” Eira nodded and tugged her satchel open, pulling the Key out to show it to the spirit. “I never thought I'd see it again!” He paused, gaze lingering on the jewels in her satchel for a moment of stunned silence. “And those... are those what I think they are?”

“The Eyes of the Falmer,” Eira confirmed. “Once I've returned the Key to it's rightful place, I'm going to deliver these to the Guild. I think Delvin will love to add them to his display case.”

“Good old Delvin,” Gallus chuckled. “And what of Mercer Frey?”

“Dead,” Eira gave a quiet huff. “I stabbed him through with your blade, Gallus. And Karliah finished him off with an arrow, shot from this very bow.”

“Then... it's over.” The spirit's shoulders relaxed, as though a great weight had been lifted off them. “My death wasn't in vain. I owe you a great deal, Nightingale.”

Eira shook her head. “No, Gallus... I did this to honor your memory and save the Guild. Not... for wealth or riches.”

“That's quite a noble sentiment for someone in our... well, in your line of work, I suppose.” He gave a soft laugh anyway. “But you've done the Guild a great deed, and I'm sure they appreciate your sacrifices even if they may not always know how to show it.”

Eira laughed a little and tucked the key back in her satchel. Gallus gave a quiet sigh. “Were I able to provide it, I'd shower you in wealth for what you've done. My only regret is that you must undertake this final task alone.”

“I'll be alright,” Eira told him. “I'm... glad we got to speak, though. You're every bit as charming as I imagined.”

“Charming? Me? You must be mistaken...” Eira suspected the spirit would be blushing if that were even possible. He certainly seemed rather flustered. “What did Karliah tell you about me?”

“Not much,” Eira said, a smirk tugging at her lips. This was rather amusing. “Just that you were a man of many talents, apparently.”

“Ah, well... I suppose that's true enough. I did have a large... number of interests, yes.”

Eira gave another soft laugh, then sighed. “She still misses you a great deal,” she added, quietly, as she tugged her mask back up. “I'm sure she'd love to know you're still here.”

“For a while longer, yes,” Gallus agreed, his voice quiet. “It would be nice to see her once more, before... before I slip away.”

“You might get a chance,” Eira said, feeling an ache in her chest. She knew the pain of missing a loved one all too well... what wouldn't she give to see her family again, one last time? A wry laugh died on her lips. “She said she'd come to the Sepulcher once the conduit is repaired. Perhaps you could meet her there.”

“Perhaps,” Gallus agreed, hesitating before wandering up behind Eira, feet vanishing into her shadow. “Perhaps I might follow you there.”

Gallus said little during the journey, except to offer cryptic guidance here and there, but Eira was glad for his presence regardless. If this is what it were like to be guided by the shadows... she could not be happier or more proud to be a small part of such a great scheme.... and when at last she found herself facing the conduit, she didn't even hesitate as she slid the key back into the lock where it belonged.

When Nocturnal appeared before Eira, however, she still did not seem overly pleased – her words felt more like a warning than a show of gratitude. “So the champion returns the Key to the Sepulcher, hmm? And with the Ebonmere restored, you stand before me awaiting your accolades; a pat on your head... a kiss on your cheek? What you fail to realize is that your actions were expected, and nothing more than the fulfillment of our deal...”

Eira gave a little shudder, eyes meeting those of the Lady. “Do not mistake my tone for displeasure. After all, you've obediently performed your duties to the letter. And speak as you will about honor and oaths and loyalty... we both know this is still about the reward; the prize.”

A chill ran down Eira's spine. “Fear not,” Nocturnal went on, a terrifying smile crossing her lips. “You'll have your trinkets, your desire for power, your hunger for wealth... I bid you to drink deeply from the Ebonmere, mortal. For this is where the Agent of Nocturnal is born. The Oath has been struck, the die has been cast. Your fate awaits you in the Evergloam. Farewell, Nightingale.”

As the Lady vanished, her voice reverberated throughout the chamber.

“See to it that the Key stays put this time, won't you?”

And just like that, it was done. It felt like a weight had been lifted from the air. Eira exhaled softly, and smiled when a familiar voice spoke up behind her. “I'm glad you were able to return the Key safely. Nocturnal seemed quite pleased with your efforts.”

“Pleased? Are you sure?” Eira turned to face Karliah, a nervous laugh finally leaving her. “She sounded rather... angry.”

“I wouldn't take that to heart, it's just her way. Think of her as a scolding mother, constantly pushing you harder to be successful. She might sound angry, but be silently content. I assure you, had she truly been displeased with you, we wouldn't be having this conversation.”

Before Eira could speak again, though, Gallus wavered as he peered around her and finally stepped free of the shadows to approach the other woman. “Karliah?”

Karliah stiffened in surprise. “Gallus! Is it really... you?”

“It is I,” he mused. He sounded quite pleased, but also rather sad. “It's good to see you again.”

“I was afraid you'd become like the others,” Karliah's voice wavered. Eira suspected there might be tears hidden behind her mask. “I thought you had become a shadow of your former self.”

“If it were not for the actions of this Nightingale, your fears would have come true. She honors us all.” He gave a soft laugh as he reached out for Karliah, taking her hands gently in his own. “You could not have chosen better.”

Karliah's hands clenched tightly around his ethereal ones, and when she spoke again it was a breathless whisper. “What will you do now, my love?”

“Nocturnal calls me to the Evergloam,” he sighed. “My contract has been fulfilled at last.”

“Will I ever see you again?” Karliah's voice broke, and Eira was certain now that she was weeping. In fact, Eira's own cheeks were damp. When had that happened?

“When your debt to Nocturnal has been paid, my love. Then we shall embrace once again.”

“Farewell, Gallus.” Karliah whispered. “Eyes open... walk with the shadows.”

“Goodbye... my Nightingale...” his voice grew faint as his form vanished from sight, the final echoes of his voice barely audible. Karliah stood there silently for several moments before she pressed her hands to her lips and gave a quiet sob.

Eira moved over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder gently.

“It's alright,” Karliah said, standing up straight even though her voice still wavered. “Gallus's Oath has been paid. He's satisfied Nocturnal's terms. Now his spirit becomes one with the Evergloam... he has gone to rest in the realm of perpetual twilight and the cradle of shadow.”

“So he's gone?” Eira asked, her own voice a little rough.

“No, not gone...” Karliah laughed very quietly and turned to face Eira, clasping her hands against the younger mer's shoulders. “Don't be sad, Nightingale. Gallus has become one with the shadows, and that's the greatest honor a Nightingale can possibly achieve. In death, he's become a part of the very thing we use to live.”

“The darkness around us?” Eira asked, finally smiling a little again.

“Absolutely. When we thieves say “walk with the shadows,” we are asking all the Nightingales who have passed on to protect us. They're the ones who guide our uncanny luck... by placing their hands in ours. That's why the conduit needed to be restored. Without it... they had no way of reaching through to us.” She gave a quiet, tired sigh and let go of Eira's shoulders. “Thanks to you, they'll be with us again, always.”

Eira traced the palm of one hand with her fingers, remembering how it had burned as the Nightingale Blade had found it's mark. Uncanny luck, indeed. Perhaps his hands had guided hers all this time.

“You were right about Gallus,” she finally said. “I see why you loved him so much.”

Karliah laughed – it was a good sound. “I knew he would approve of your role in all this. Come, we don't want to keep the others waiting. Brynjolf's worried, I'm sure.” Eira could practically hear Karliah smirk beneath her mask. “And I'm sure he's not the only one.”

“No,” Eira laughed. “I'm sure he isn't.”

 

Niruin had never been good at waiting – his restless, thrill-seeking nature was part of what had driven him to become a thief in the first place. Yet there had been little to do except wait for the past two days, and it was maddening!

He had taken jobs from Vex and Delvin to keep his hands busy the first day, but his fingers had fumbled far too much to get anything done properly. He'd gone to the tavern instead, only to wake up back in his bed at the Cistern with a nasty hangover and a nastier lecture from Vex.

“I don't care what your reasons are – you should always do your work first, get drunk second.” She scoffed, arms folded over her chest as she leaned against the wall near his bed. “Getting drunk before you go to work is a great way to get your ass handed to you. You really want someone to have to save your ass again?”

“Duly noted,” he groaned, covering his head with a pillow. The walls in Riften had ears, and the ears had a name: Vex. “Please, keep your voice down.”

Brynjolf came back alone that night, but he was quick to assure the Guild that everything was fine. “Mercer's dead, that's taken care of. There's still a few loose ends that need tying up, but... Eira and Karliah are dealing with those. They figured someone ought to come back and make sure you lot are keeping busy in the meantime, so... keep working.”

Niruin couldn't help but notice something about Brynjolf's tone had shifted – he spoke of Karliah and Eira as though they were his equals. That was a curious development. At some point Eira had worked her way up the ladder, and yet... He just felt happy for her, not left behind. Strange.

And when he was drinking mead at the Flagon the very next night and heard the door creak open, followed by the sound of feet as light as leaves, he couldn't stop himself from grinning. Even Vekel perked up and smiled, fetching a tankard. “What'll it be tonight, friend?”

“The usual,” Eira's voice was bright and giddy as she climbed up into a seat beside Niruin. She was still wearing the midnight-black armor she'd left in, but the hood was tipped back and the mask pooled around her neck.

“Have you gone to see Brynjolf yet?” Niruin asked.

“Yeah, Karliah and I met him at... well, at the rendezvous point we had agreed on earlier.” Vekel slid her the tankard full of mead and she lifted it to her lips to drink from it, lips curling up in a strange smile. Niruin actually felt a knot of worry curl up in his stomach – but he quickly buried it with another swallow of his own drink.

Surely she had perfectly fine reasons for keeping him in the dark, right? He was probably over-thinking it. She had surpassed him in rank, of course there were going to be secrets between them. He shouldn't let it bother him.

“Well... I suppose everything is settled, then?” Niruin stared into the bottom of his empty cup for a few more moments before he set it down on the counter. Vekel picked it up to clean it and Niruin sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Brynjolf told us you took care of Mercer.”

“Yeah,” Eira gave a quiet laugh, her elbow briefly digging into his side. “Technically Karliah gave him the finishing blow, but I did a lot of the work. Pretty sure I'm owed a reward at some point.”

Vekel gave them a sideways glance, and Niruin felt his cheeks grow hot as he sat up and brushed her arm away. “Yes, of course. You'll be paid in full as soon as possible, I promise.”

“I'd better be,” Eira huffed, hopping down from her seat. She slid her empty glass over to Vekel and flashed Niruin a coy grin. What was left of the knot in his stomach unraveled in an instant – gods above, when she looked at him like that...! “Things are about to get very busy around here.”

He watched her slink off in stunned silence until Vekel nudged him to shoo him off. “Listen, friend, when a girl talks to you like that... you don't want to keep her waiting.”

Niruin found her in the training room, arms tensed as she prepared to loose the arrow. He stood in the doorway for a moment, studying her form. She let out her breath and the arrow flew, striking it's mark – dead center. His lips tugged into a smile. “Excellent form,” he breathed. “I dare say you hardly need training from me anymore.”

Eira lowered her bow and smiled at him, rosy lips parting to reveal white pearls. She really was a pretty young thing – couldn't be more than twenty-five, surely. She swiped some of her hair away from her eyes, amber glinting in the dim light as she approached him.

When she looked at him like that, nothing else really mattered.

She leaned in to kiss him and he pulled her in, holding her close. Her tongue was soft and warm, sliding along his lip, and when she pressed up against him he couldn't hold in a quiet, breathless gasp. Eira was grinning again when she pulled away, brushing her hand against his obvious desire for her. She gave a gentle squeeze and his knees nearly buckled.

“I don't know,” Eira mused, her voice low and quiet. “I could always use more practice, and you did say all I had to do was... grab you.”

“Whenever you like,” Niruin whispered.

She gave a little laugh and pressed him to to wall as she kissed him again. He let her lead for a while, enjoying her touches quite fiercely – gods, why couldn't his father have found a girl like this to betroth him to years ago? But he soon grew frustrated with her gentle teasing and plucked her up in his grasp to tumble with her into the hay, hidden in a secluded corner of the room.

She squeaked and gave a quiet chuckle, hands sliding down her sides to tug at her pants. He pressed up against her back and kissed below her ear, drawing a moan from her. “Do try to remember where we are,” he whispered, a smirk spreading over his lips.

“Do you really care if the Guild finds out that we're...?” Eira asked. He gave the tip of her ear a playful nip and she moaned aloud, fingers splaying against the stone wall.

“No,” he admitted. He finally got her pants down and let his fingers tease back up her thighs, making her groan and shudder. “You still might want to keep your voice down, though. Some people might actually be trying to sleep...”

Eira's cheeks darkened as they flushed. “Right, I'll... keep that in mind.”

She gasped and tensed up again as he slid his fingers into her slick heat, seeking out the sweet spot that would really drive her wild. He might be a poor lockpick, but... this was different. Niruin felt her shudder a little and applied just a bit more pressure to that same spot, smirking when he felt her tumble over the edge.

“Niruin...” Gods, he loved how his name sounded on her lips. He pulled his hand away, licking her release from his fingers as she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Fuck, that's...”

He gave a low chuckle and pressed up against her again, dragging his lips across the back of her neck in a hot, open-mouthed kiss. She tasted of salt and sweat, but he loved it. He pulled away, panting as he looked her over – the curve of her back, the way her hair spilt across her shoulders like liquid silver, slick with sweat. He couldn't get enough of her.

Even when he tugged his own pants down and pressed his cock up against her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he slid in, he still didn't feel like he had enough of her. He still needed more. He needed to take in every breathless gasp and quiet whisper in the darkness. He needed to feel every muscle tense up and release, needed to hear his name spill from her mouth every time he rolled his hips against her. He needed her to sing his name when she came undone.

“Gods, Nir...!” Eira's voice was a breathless gasp as she tensed up again, tight and hot around him, and he pressed her up against the wall as he buried his face in her hair. She brought a hand up to cover her mouth, muffling her cries. They were close, so close, but still not close enough.

“Eira...” he groaned her name quietly as his hands moved up to cup her bound breasts beneath her shirt, squeezing them and tweaking the hard peaks buried under the cloth. She arched her back, a muffled groan escaping around her hand. Niruin felt her flex and jerk as she came, her inner walls shuddering around the shaft of his cock.

Niruin hastened his movements, then, sliding about halfway out of her each time before he was pressing back in – hard and quick. She still gave quiet gasps with each thrust of his hips, still sensitive from her release, and when he finally hit his own peak she trembled beneath him. He clung to her and followed through with a few more weak thrusts before he relaxed and held her in a warm embrace.

“Thank you,” he finally breathed, breath soft on her neck as he kissed it again. She gave a quiet laugh, hands moving to rest over his as she leaned back against him. The small gesture made his heart leap and flutter a bit, like a bird's wing beating in his chest.

“You're welcome,” she whispered. “Though I feel like I should be the one thanking you – that was one hell of a reward.”

“Oh, this wasn't your reward,” Niruin chuckled, sliding out of her so he could fix his clothes back in place. “I had planned to take you to an inn somewhere for that. Buy you a drink, draw sweet sounds from you all night... not roll about with you in the training room here.”

Eira laughed as she got up and tugged her clothes back into place as well. She ran a hand through her hair as she turned to face Niruin, her cheeks still flushed as she smiled. “The night's still young, you know. We can still go to the Bee and the Barb.”

Gods, he could never get enough of her.

“If that's what you want,” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “Lead the way.”

 

The next morning, Niruin smiled as he cooked himself some breakfast. Not even the looks Vipir, Cynric, and Thrynn were flashing him from the table could dampen his high spirits after a night like that. In fact, his grin only grew wider as he took a seat next to Vipir at the table, stirring his stew with a spoon. “Good morning, Vipir. How is everything going?”

“Couldn't be better,” he huffed, voice flat. “Heard you two going at it last night – in the training room, no less! Other people do use that, you know. I mean, really.”

Niruin felt heat rush to his cheeks, but he still couldn't stop smiling. “Hey, don't be angry with me. She's the one that started it.”

“I didn't exactly hear you complaining,” Vipir said, taking a bite from a piece of bread.

Niruin took a bite of the stew, eyebrow going up as he gave Vipir a look. “Now I'm curious how long you were listening in, Vipir. I didn't know you were into that sort of thing.”

Vipir's entire face went red in embarrassment, and Cynric gave a dry laugh as he slammed his cup down. “Ha... don't worry, elf. We didn't linger long – once he realized what he was overhearing, Vipir fled quite swiftly.”

Niruin snorted softly at that – Vipir the Fleet, indeed. “I'm sorry if we got in the way of anything,” he mused, smirking as he brought the spoon to his mouth again.

“Shut your mouth,” Vipir groaned. “Or I'll smack that smirk off your face.”

“Yeah, shut it, old man.” Cynric rolled his eyes and drank from his cup again. “You damn lucky bastard. Isn't she a bit young for you? I mean it's hard to know with your kind, but she looks pretty damn young to me.”

“I'm not that old,” Niruin huffed, flush returning to his cheeks again.

“You've been here longer than any of us,” Thrynn pointed out, speaking up for the first time since Niruin had joined them for breakfast.

Niruin frowned and stirred his stew. It was true, actually. With Mercer dead, he'd been there longer than anyone except Delvin... Why, he even remembered when Brynjolf was the fresh-faced new recruit, desperate to prove his worth to Gallus and Mercer!

He sighed a little. Damn – now he did feel old. The other men still had their eyes on him, so Niruin rolled his eyes and spoke up again. “Well, let me ask you this – if a pretty young lady bought a drink for you, would you take it... or would you tell her you aren't thirsty?”

Thrynn's face flushed crimson, then the former bandit looked down and gave a little cough of a laugh. “...I'd take the drink.”

“There you go,” Niruin smiled, picking up the bowl to drink what was left of his stew.

Despite all the teasing, he was honestly happy. Things were looking up for the Guild – the waters no longer felt stagnant. Coin was flowing freely again, and the results were beginning to show. Merchants opened stalls in the Flagon again. New recruits turned up in droves. The spring never left Brynjolf's step these days.

And Eira? Niruin didn't see as much of her as he would like to, that was certain – she was always busy with one thing or another, still vanishing without a trace for days on end sometimes... but when she did walk through the Flagon, the other thieves looked to her with respect and even pride.

So when Brynjolf gathered the various members of the Guild together on the eve of the new year, his reasons did not come as a surprise. Not really. Niruin felt his heart swell up with joy when Eira rushed in, all excitement and nerves.

“Brynjolf, you didn't tell me it would be tonight...!”

“Aye, well. I've never really been good at these things, lass. Thought it was as good a night as any. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” she mused, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she glanced around the Cistern. Her cheeks were still flushed from the cold night air outside.

“Don't worry, lass. I've never been good at these things, so I'm just going to keep it short.” Brynjolf crossed his arms and shifted from one foot to the other anxiously. “Being Guildmaster is about more than just getting a cut of the loot. It's about being a leader and keeping this rabble in order. With that in mind... I propose that the position should be yours. What do you think, Delvin?” Brynjolf turned to face the older man.

“Agreed,” Delvin grinned.

Brynjolf turned to Vex next. “Vex?”  
Vex gave a soft laugh and folded her arms as she studied Eira. “Sure, why not?”

Finally, Bryn looked to Karliah – whose silent presence had almost gone unnoticed until that moment. “Karliah?”

“Absolutely,” her voice was quiet, but full of pride.

“Everyone's in agreement, then, so all I can do now is name you Guildmaster, Eira, and wish you good fortune and a long life.” Brynjolf unfolded his arms and looked around at the rest of the Guild, then gave a soft laugh. “Now get back to work, all of you.”

And so they did – all of them. Eira especially. She seemed quite eager to prove herself worthy of the role that she had been given, and soon the old desk was covered in maps and paperwork and Niruin smiled as he remembered how Gallus used to stand over that desk in the same manner. Even her eyes glinted the same way as she gazed at the papers.

The role really did suit her quite well. It wasn't long before it was hard to believe Mercer had ever held the position. He'd lacked the spirit and charm a good leader needed, not to mention a sense of compassion for those beneath them.

Eira's nature could hardly be contained by the Guild, though.

“Did you hear? They say our Guildmaster is being made Thane of Riften,” Tonilia mused one night, leaning back in her seat at the Flagon.

“Oh, aye,” Delvin smiled. “She's got lots of friends in high places. Pretty sure Maven Black-Briar put in a good word for her with the Jarl.”

“She's a very busy lass,” Brynjolf said, smiling as he sipped at his ale. “I don't think it was all Maven's doing. Eira's a hero, haven't you heard? She found that skooma ring that was trying to sneak around behind our backs and wiped them out... all under the premise of doing it for the Jarl.”

Vekel gave a snort as he wiped up a spill on the counter. “Yeah, that was pretty impressive.”

Thane of the Rift... Niruin sipped at his mead and frowned a little. He knew Eira was a thane in Whiterun, too – it was common knowledge that the Dragonborn had been awarded that position after slaying the dragon that had attacked the city. There were similar whispers in other holds, too, though. She was a busy lass indeed.

Niruin was starting to worry about her. She was trying to do too much, he feared – and it was starting to show. There was a weariness in her that hadn't been there before, a dullness to her bright eyes that shouldn't be there. She muttered in her sleep often, too – about fire, blood, and doom that came on dark wings. Sometimes she cried out names she rarely spoke when she was awake, and all he could do was hold her and hush her and hope that she would find more pleasant dreams soon.

“You know you don't have to carry the world on your shoulders, right?” Niruin mused one night, hands still brushing through her hair. She was sleeping peacefully, and for that he thanked the gods. He just wished she hadn't nodded off when they'd barely tumbled into bed.

Oh well.

Niruin cupped her cheek, smiling a little as he gave a sigh. Her eyelids fluttered as she slept, and as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead his heart fluttered the same way in his chest. He watched her sleep, fingers trembling as he ran them through her silver hair, and he wondered.

“Why did I have to fall for a hero, hmm?” He wanted to say it was more stress than it was worth, but it wasn't. It was worth every bit of worry and fear he felt for her, because he felt far more alive than he had in years.

By Oblivion, he was doomed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter covered a lot... And concludes the Thieves Guild questline! However, the tale I'm telling is far from done with the Guild itself. I'm still working on the next plot arc of the story, so updates might be slow for a little while until I build my chapter buffer back up. I've also officially decided to post some side-stories that go along with this as I think of them, the first of which has a chapter up. (Archer's Mark is and will always remain Eira and Niruin's story, so other characters and other parts of the greater story will show up in side-stories.)
> 
> That said, I've still been tweaking in-game dialogue quite a bit to suit the needs of my story. I think it's fun to breathe a little extra life into the encounters from the game. Gallus is still one of my favorite characters, so I was happy to show a little more of his personality as I imagine it.
> 
> This chapter also resulted in a couple jokes with my friend/beta-reader about "archery porn" and "lockpicking skills" because I told them I had bookmarked the Wikipedia article on archery for the sake of this fic and had to google "how to pick an old-fashioned lock" because of this chapter (to be sure I had the terminology right.) I also have saved the article on "Beverages of Skyrim" to bookmarks because of this story. My characters drink too much. (At least Nir has an excuse.)


	8. Words

Words

16th of Morning Star, 4E 202

 

Eira woke up at dawn, cradled in a gentle embrace. She shifted a little against Niruin and gave a sigh, nuzzling the crook of his shoulder. Well, damn. She must have fallen asleep not long after they came to bed – she remembered him pressing her up to the wall when they came in to her new home, and remembered tugging at his shirt as he carried her up the stairs to the bedroom, but after that? Nothing. Just sweet, dreamless sleep.

She felt Niruin stir as she kissed his neck. He gave a quiet chuckle and sat up a bit, golden eyes full of mirth as he looked at her. “Did you sleep well, Eira?” he asked, a strange softness in his tone that made her blush as she buried her face against his shirt and nodded.

“I did. But Nir, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you like - ” Eira's apology was swallowed up as Niruin kissed her. He laughed as he broke away, pressing his forehead against hers.

“It's alright,” he whispered. “You must have been exhausted. I'm no fool, Eira. You look so weary of late... how many things are you trying to do?”

“Too many,” she admitted, giving a little groan as she stretched out on the bed. She was sore all over, but she was getting used to that being a constant thing. It was something that came with her occupation, this restless ache in her bones.

But as she sat up, Niruin caught her and pulled her into a gentle embrace. She shivered as he pressed a kiss behind her ear and rested his hands over hers. “Take a break,” he muttered. “Rest a little while, can't you? I know there are things you must do and places you must go, but...”

Eira gave a soft, wry laugh. It was a very tired sound. “You know what I am,” she sighed. “I can't just... sit idle and let people suffer.”

“I know,” he pulled away from her with a little frown, then pressed his hands to his face and gave a frustrated sigh. When he looked at her again, his brow was furrowed with worry. “Not even heroes can save everyone, you know. There's too many evils in this world for you to destroy by yourself. I admire that you try, Eira, but... you're only hurting yourself by trying so damn hard. Take it easy, will you?”

Niruin made a good point, damn him. Eira frowned and hugged her knees to her chest, looking away. “Alright, fine. I'll take a break if it makes you feel better. I'm sure Brynjolf and the others can look after the Guild for a week or two.”

“I'm sure they can,” Niruin agreed, reaching out to clasp her shoulder. His fingers were warm and gentle, and when they brushed over her mark she shivered again at the thrill his touch sent through her whole body. “It would be nice to take things slow for a little while, don't you think?”

“Where would you want to go?” she asked, a blush darkening her cheeks as she peered over her shoulder at Niruin. “I mean... if you were to come with me, is there somewhere you'd like to visit?”

“Why not Solitude?” he asked, smirking a little. There was a softness in his gaze, though, that made her feel warm. “I mean, it's just about as far from Riften as you can get. In this country, at least.”

“I like Solitude,” Eira said, flashing him a smile. “You might have to smuggle me in, though.” She wasn't sure if word had gotten all the way to Solitude yet about her choice to join the Stormcloaks – so far, she had tried to keep it pretty quiet. Ulfric wanted her to get out on the front lines at some point, though, but she was trying to choose her battles wisely.

Niruin gave a quiet laugh. He was giving her a curious look, but she wasn't quite ready to tell him the side she'd chosen in the war. Not when Ulfric's general still liked to lump all the pointy-eared bastards together. “Do you have a bounty in that hold?”

“Yeah,” Eira smiled and tucked some hair behind one of her ears. “Something like that.”

“Well, perhaps we could talk to Rune about it... He still has contacts up there, as far as I know. He might be able to work something out for us.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Eira said. Then she laughed as well and moved to hug Niruin tight again, pinning him to the bed as she gave him a few soft, warm kisses. “I really am sorry for worrying you, though. Let me make it up to you?”

“It's fine, really...” Niruin said, shivering and groaning when she gave his throat a playful bite. “You've done nothing wrong, I promise.”

“Still,” Eira pulled away and smiled at him, warmth settling inside her as if she had just drunk hot mead... but the only honey she'd tasted was the honey on his lips, the honey in his gaze as he watched her bite her lip and tilt her head just so. “I want to.”

“Then by all means, continue.” His voice was a quiet, pleading whisper. Eira was quick to listen to him, slowly pulling the cotton shirt he had worn to bed up and off his body. She still marveled at the lean muscles of his chest – his strength was in his back and shoulders, where his muscles were built up from years of using a bow, but he was lean and toned all the way down.

Eira smirked as she sat up, fingers going to untie the laces of his pants. He was already getting hard, she could feel that – it took very little on her part to get him that way. A glance, a smirk, a touch... She loved how quickly he responded to her every time. “Eager, are you?”

Niruin's cheeks darkened with a blush as he gave a quiet tisk. His lips parted in a smile as he watched her tug his pants off, though. His eyes never left her, and the intensity of his gaze made her shiver as she grabbed his cock and stroked it a few times, feeling it stiffen more in her grasp. “Well, you do know how to get my blood going,” he mused.

As she pulled her own shirt off, she found herself wondering what Niruin liked so much about her. She wasn't the buxom, wide-hipped sort of lass so many men in Skyrim seemed to lust over, but the way his eyes trailed down her naked form was proof enough that he found her alluring. Seductive. She loved how he marveled at her in the same ways she marveled at him.

It was that look in his eyes, the way he gazed at her like she was a precious treasure, that made her want him so much. It was a give and take, and she hoped he never stopped wanting her like this. She hoped he never stopped coming back. She loved waking in his embrace, loved the way he would cradle her against him, loved the way he seemed to understand her so damn well even when she didn't speak a single word.

And gods, did she love the way he arched his back and groaned when she lined herself up and slid down on him. His cock was hot and hard inside her, and as she rolled her hips to meet him she found herself mesmerized by the way he watched her move. She bit her lip and groaned softly, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

“No, please... keep your eyes on me,” Niruin finally gasped, hand squeezing her hip. She opened hers again and found there was a softness around his eyes despite the intense heat that burned inside their golden depths. “I love the fire in your eyes, Eira. Gods... please. Keep looking at me.”

She gasped a little and shuddered, watching as Niruin gripped the covers beneath her. He managed to hold off his own peak, but in the wake of hers he shifted their position so he was the one pinning her to the mattress with his kisses. She trembled and shook in his hold, cheeks still flushed with desire. “Nir... don't stop.”

“Wasn't planning to any time soon,” he said, giving a quiet chuckle as he caught her mouth in a heated kiss again. His teeth grazed at her lips every now and then as he moved against her. Just as she started to feel the tension building up again, his movements grew more erratic and she clung to him as he gasped and groaned and came undone with her.

Afterwards, the only sounds in the room were their breath as they caught it and the quiet thumping of their hearts in their chests. Niruin stayed still against her for quite some time before he shifted to lay beside her instead, running his hands through her hair as he often did.

“...So you love the fire in my eyes, huh?” Eira asked, flashing a playful smirk. She kept her voice hushed and quiet, hardly daring to speak louder and ruin the sweet moment. Niruin just smiled at her, gripping her hair gently as he studied her face.

“I do. They are by far your most alluring feature, though your sharp tongue is a close second.”

Eira had to smirk at that, her eyes flashing with boldness as she wet her lips slightly. “Oh? You like my tongue, do you?”

Niruin shivered a little, tensing up as he drew in a breath. But he relaxed on the exhale and rolled his eyes, cupping her cheek. “Not just for that reason, Eira. Gods, though, you do know how to use it.” He pulled her in to kiss her and she gave him a quick taste of her tongue again. When they broke apart his cheeks were flushed, but he still just held her and rested his chin against the top of her head. “You are quite good with words, Eira. I truly think your wit is your best weapon.”

“Better than a bow?” Eira sat up a little, honestly surprised.

Niruin gave a soft laugh. “By far. However hard you practice with a bow, it still serves but one purpose. Words, though... words may be double-edged, or soft and sweet as summer wine with no edge to them at all. Words are a very powerful weapon.”

“I suppose they are,” she mused – thinking of the power of the Thu'um. “Especially when you know how to use them.”

 

It was after noon when they finally made their way to the Flagon again, creeping in through the secret entrance in the graveyard. Brynjolf was flipping through some of the paperwork on her desk when Eira approached him. “Bryn, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“A favor? What sort of favor, lass?” He turned to face her, eyes just barely visible under his hood, and Eira smiled. She was glad he still called her lass. Despite being the Guildmaster now, she still looked up to Brynjolf and was glad to have him as her right hand.

“I'm planning to take a break from Guild work for a bit, actually. I was hoping you could take care of things here until I get back from my travels.”

“Oh, aye. Not a problem.” Eira sighed as relief flooded through her, but then suddenly Brynjolf put a hand on her shoulder and she jumped a little. When she looked to his face again, his brow was furrowed with worry. “Is everything alright, lass?”

“Yes, I'm fine. Just tired – I mean, you've been a great help, Bryn, but...”

“Aye, I know. You've got a lot on your plate. Go, then – enjoy the trip. Karliah and I will hold the fort for you, so to speak.” He let go of her shoulder and turned back to the paperwork, and Eira couldn't help but smile a little bit as she studied him.

“You seem happy,” Eira said, her voice hardly more than a whisper. “How's Karliah doing? I haven't seen her in a while.”

Brynjolf gave a soft snort of a laugh and Eira caught a glimpse of a smile before he glanced aside, obscuring his face from her vision. “She's feeling better. She told me she feels at peace, finally, for the first time in many years. But feel free to ask her yourself sometime.”

“You've both had a habit of disappearing lately,” Eira's voice was laced with mirth, now.

Brynjolf stood up and crossed his arms. “Now, lass, don't go jumping to conclusions. I've had important things to do. Karliah's been keeping herself busy. That's all there is to it.” He picked up a stack of papers and flipped through them, a soft sigh slipping out with his next breath.

“If you say so,” Eira said – deciding it might be a better idea to leave Brynjolf alone for the time being. She was hardly wise when it came to matters of the heart, after all. Love was a complicated feeling, even when it was reciprocated. “I'll be going, then. If you need anything, though...”

“Aye, I'll write. Now off with ye, lass – walk with the shadows.”

Eira grinned as she wandered off to find Niruin, still amused by how quickly Brynjolf had taken to his role as an agent of Nocturnal. He'd been so skeptical at first – even telling Karliah he was hardly a religious man. Yet now he always sent Eira off with the parting words of a Nightingale.

Eira was starting to think he had embraced his role because he wanted to impress Karliah. She was no fool – the man was always at Nightingale Hall when he wasn't in the Flagon these days. But then Eira remembered the touching moment she had witnessed between Karliah and Gallus... and she knew why Brynjolf would remain silent on the subject, regardless of how he truly felt.

“You're sure your father will be fine with us staying at his place in Solitude?”

“Oh, absolutely – even if he doesn't have a bed for you, I'm sure he'd be fine with letting you camp in the woods out back. We'll work something out.” Rune gave a laugh as Eira approached him and Niruin by the cooking pot. “My father has been asking me to visit for some time now. He'd be happy to see me, certainly, even if I brought friends with me.”

“Thank you, Rune,” Eira said, clapping his shoulder gently. “You're a good friend.”

Rune brushed her hand away with a laugh. “It's nothing, really. Anything for my sister-in-crime. But don't praise me too much – I don't want to make your boyfriend jealous.”

Niruin had quirked an eyebrow up as he watched them, but Eira grinned when he rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. I'm hardly jealous.”

Even so, Niruin still lingered close as Eira got the last of her things together and waved farewell to Brynjolf, and Eira never stopped grinning as they left the Flagon and made their way toward Riften's stables to hitch a carriage ride to Solitude.

She was no master of the heart's ways, but she was sure of one thing now – he loved her, even if he was reluctant to speak the word... and she was pretty sure she loved him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, sorry for the delay! I went home for Thanksgiving and had to help out around the house...
> 
> I still haven't built up the chapter buffer back up, but I wanted to go ahead and post this one. It's a little short, but it serves as a good bridge into the next story arc. I also ran into a few plotting issues - I needed to figure out how much the Civil War and Dragon Crisis had spread while Eira's been hiding out with the Guild, but I think I've worked most of it out at this point.
> 
> Also, gotta love thieves. Nir and Eira both keep dancing around the word "love" in regards to one another... it's like they fear commitment or something, haha.


	9. Solitude

Solitude

22nd of Morning Star, 4E 202

 

Perhaps some time away from the troubles of the world was exactly what Eira had needed. A week they had been in Solitude, a mere handful of days, but she felt rested and ready to take on the world once again. The air was good out this way – crisp it was, cold and clear, and the wind often smelled like the sea.

Rune taught her how to fish one morning. She was clumsy at it, small and slender as she was, but Rune was patient with her. He showed her how to hold the net and how to know where the fish would be, though Niruin cut in once or twice with some advice as well. “Don't worry about memorizing all that nonsense, Eira, you only have to use your ears to find them.”

“You can't hear fish, elf. They don't make any noise.”

“Oh, but they do! When they come to the surface of the water, if you listen very closely, you can hear them. I suppose it might be more difficult for you to pick up on. You're a Breton, though, aren't you? Less deaf than most of your kin.”

“I'm flattered,” Rune said, giving a soft huff as he reeled in his net. “Sounds like a trick to me.”

“It's not a trick,” Niruin said, standing up on the dock to draw his bow. “I'll show you.” He stood in silence for a minute, then took careful aim and shot an arrow into the water. When it floated up, he had indeed sniped a large fish. “There were two more, but they swam off just now.”

“I'll be damned,” Rune shook his head as he laughed. Niruin sat down on the pier with grace, one leg dangling off the edge. A smug smirk played on his lips as he watched Eira creep through the water, ready to pounce on the first fish she heard.

Except the rocks were slick beneath her feet, and instead of a graceful pounce she slipped and fell back in the water, floundering and splashing about as she struggled with the large net. Rune sighed and came over, pulling her back to her feet to help her untangle herself from the net. “Whoa, careful. That's a good way to drown. Perhaps you'd be better off sticking with your bow, Eira.”

“I think so, too,” she laughed as she gave Rune a playful nudge with her elbow. “Thanks for the lesson, though. I haven't had this much fun in a while.”

“You think nearly drowning is fun?” Rune teased. “Eh, to each their own, I guess.” He ruffled her hair gently, and despite the sharp chill of the water, Eira felt cozy and warm. “We can fish more tomorrow, if you'd like.”

It was only later, when Eira was drying herself by the old fisherman's hearth, that she realized Rune reminded her of her brother, Syrus. He had always been a patient tutor as well, but had often teased her gently about her mistakes and shortcomings. And at the end of each lesson, Syrus always used to mess up her hair and tell her they would have more time for practice on the morrow.

“Here you go,” Rune said, passing Eira a drink as he sat down beside her. “Some Firebrand Ale for my sister-in-crime. Should help stave off the cold.”

Eira frowned and pulled the furs closer around her slouched shoulders, suddenly feeling a draft in the room. “Thanks,” she said. There was no mirth in her voice, though, and Rune's brow furrowed as he took note of how it cracked.

“You're not coming down with something, are you?”

“No, I'm fine.” She sipped at the ale and sighed as it heated her from the inside out. “Mm, that's good stuff. Thank you.”

“Something is troubling you, though. I know that look,” Niruin frowned as he studied her from his seat by the fire. Eira was quiet for several moments more. She had planned to insist it was nothing, but she couldn't deny the way her eyes grew wet as she watched Niruin's hands. He was cleaning and gutting the fish he'd caught earlier, preparing to fry it up for dinner, but his deft fingers paused in their work when he saw her expression. “Eira?”

She quickly wiped at her eyes with the fur blanket, but it was too late. Both of the men were waiting on her to speak now, watching her with troubled eyes, so she had to speak. “I was thinking about my family,” she said, and her voice broke a little again. “My oldest brother loved hunting, and fishing, and... anything outside. He was always in the wilderness. Today reminded me of him.”

Niruin's brow furrowed while Rune's face darkened with understanding. The Breton man was quiet for several moments before he spoke up. “I'm sorry, I didn't know you had a brother. Did he...” Rune let whatever question he was going to ask die in his throat as he thought better of it, looking aside instead. Niruin went back to cleaning his fish, not looking at Eira.

“I had two,” she finally said, gripping the fur tight as she closed her eyes. “Syrus was ten years older. Aril... maybe ten minutes. I was the youngest, but Aril always acted like the baby.” Eventually she opened her eyes again to gaze into the fire, still rubbing her hands together to keep her fingers busy. “I'm still looking for Aril, but... I don't even know if I'll find him alive. Nothing's turned up yet – it's damn hard to get any information from outside the borders these days.”

“I know the feeling,” Rune glanced to his father, who had gone to bed already. “I'm still trying to find my family, too. You know, the one I was born to. I've spent years searching, and...”

“Still nothing,” Eira sighed. “I'm sorry, Rune. I've asked people to keep an eye out for any clues to your birth family, too. But even now, even with the Guild's influence spreading, I feel like we're both chasing ghosts.”

“Perhaps we are,” Rune took a long drink of his own ale and sighed, shoulders falling slightly as he settled his gaze on the flickering flames in the hearth as well. “But that doesn't mean either of us will stop searching, does it?”

“No,” Eira untangled her legs and stood up in a smooth, graceful motion; her hands still held the blanket tight around her shoulders. “No, it doesn't.”

 

Eira couldn't rest that night. It didn't matter how still she lay in the bedroll, listening to the sounds of the night outside the little tent she and Niruin had pitched in the woods behind Rune's home. She tried to focus on the sound of the tide, the night wind in the trees, even Niruin's quiet breathing as he slept beside her... nothing helped.

Even when she did finally nod off, her dreams were full of fears and ghosts. Memories bled together. She ran after Syrus beneath the trees near their old home, where she and Aril had often played. The leaves were warm under her bare feet as she chased him, but then she slipped and fell and saw that her feet were blistered and bleeding. Syrus was still running ahead of her, his silver locks streaming behind him. Eira sat up and yelled for him to help her, but no sound came out.

Syrus never looked back at her before he vanished between the trees.

Eira tried to scream again, tears streaming down her face, but she was muted. Then she was picked up by rough hands and the world went dark. She struggled against her binds in the darkness, but there was no way to break free. When there was finally light again, what she saw was hardly comforting – she was in Irkngthand, locked in one of the Dwemer cells.

Outside her cell, Aril was surrounded by Falmer mages and stretched out on a torture table. He screamed as lightning arched over his body. Eira fought against her chains and tried to scream again.

“No! Please! Stop – Aril! Aril, hold on!”

Suddenly Eira was surrounded by a warm embrace. It was followed by a few soft, sleepy kisses to her shoulders and she exhaled slowly when she realized she was awake. She was covered in sweat from the nightmare, but the coldness was swiftly leaving her as Niruin's gentle touch warmed her up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, finally. She shook her head and he hugged her closer still. “Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was rough, and Eira hoped he hadn't been woken from a good dream.

“I don't know,” she whispered, voice breaking. Eira closed her eyes for a few moments and let Nir's closeness comfort her, but it was a small comfort. “It was just another dream.”

“You were screaming like a mad thing, Eira. I was frightened.” He looked away, hesitating before he held her head to his chest. She could hear how loud his heart still pounded, and she gave a quiet sob as she clung to him.

“You also said something about Aril,” Niruin sighed and cupped her cheek as he studied her face. There was worry in his eyes, and questions, but he seemed hesitant to speak. “You say his name often in your sleep, you know.”

“I dream of him often,” Eira said, shuddering a little. “They separated us on purpose. They wanted to hurt us... they wanted to break us. It didn't work with me – I fought them with everything I had, but... I worry about Aril.”

“If he's alive, I'm sure you'll find him.” Niruin gave her another soft kiss and sighed as she pulled away from him and sat up, pressing her face into her hands.

“I'm sorry,” she sighed. “I'm full of tears and daggers tonight.”

“You should at least try to sleep,” Nir said. He lay still in the furs, watching her. “It's no good if you let things like this eat away at you.”

“I know, damn it! I just need a little air, I think.” Eira pulled on her dark armor quickly and grabbed her bow, glancing back at Niruin once before she left the tent.

“Go on, then,” he sighed, pulling the covers close again. “Just don't do anything stupid.”

Eira gave a quiet laugh as she turned and left the tent. She inhaled slowly as the flap closed behind her - outside, the night was crisp and beautiful. The night air was cold and clear. It felt good in her lungs as she walked beneath the trees in the darkness.

Snowflakes drifted down from the heavens, where the stars glinted whenever the clouds parted, but for the most part it was a dark and silent night. Eira felt comfortable here, shrouded in shadow like this. She always had, actually – Eira had been born under the sign of the Lover, one of the Thief's charges... but her ties to Nocturnal as a Nightingale had only made her bond to darkness even stronger.

Perhaps she had always been destined to serve the Lady. Certainly many things in her life seemed guided by fate these days. Eira sighed as she ducked beneath another branch, her feet hardly making a sound as she crept through the forest. She was still trying to find her way, still trying to figure out her role in all this.

The Greybeard monks had told her to avoid conflict if she could, but that was their way. Eira sighed a little as she sank down to a crouch, eyes flicking over the open marsh that spread out before her. She clung to the shadows of the trees as long as she could. Perhaps that was her way – perhaps she belonged to the night. A shadow, a dream, a ghost.

Eira liked it best that way. She liked being able to sit in taverns across Skyrim, listening to the rumors that had sprung up from her own actions, knowing none were wise to her presence. There was something nice about passing unseen in such a way – being a rumor on the wind, nothing more. It was poetic. And yet... she still craved wealth and glory.

She was a thief, after all. A damn good one, too. There was a reason no one had questioned her new rank as Guildmaster, but she still felt a need to keep impressing everyone. She still hoped to plot future heists that would make old Gallus smile if he was watching from the shadows.

But she did plenty of jobs the Guild would never hear about, and this was one of them. Eira held her breath as she crept across an open section of the marshland, toward a large standing stone that offered some cover. Vacation or not, she had still been seeking leads on several quests she had taken on... and there were several tombs in this area ripe for raiding.

When a thrown spell narrowly missed hitting her, though, Eira realized this tomb was already being raided. She peered around the stone as she drew her bow in silence, only to catch sight of the last escaping bandit fall to a spell cast by a dying necromancer. She wandered over in silence, studying the scene before her for a moment. Had some great treasure lured them all to this place? Perhaps...

Eira made her way down into the tomb, creeping up behind some of the necromancers that had not fallen to the bandits outside. They were using dead thralls to excavate the cavern for them, but the necromancers were arguing about how slow their labor was. “There goes another one...”

“Bah! Weak-willed rabble. Even in death they're almost useless.”

“They seem less intelligent each time you raise them. It's impossible.”

“As long as they can swing a pickaxe when you tell them to, they're as smart as we need them to b-ah!” Eira felled both of them with her silent, deadly arrows before they ever knew what hit them. The thralls they had forced to do their bidding fell when they did, and Eira hoped they would find some peace at last.

She heard a shout echo from a deeper chamber in the tomb and made her way to the door, peering around it as she drew another arrow from her quiver; it was best to be ready for anything. She crept through the narrow hall, her feet hardly making any noise at all. She had always been quiet, but Nocturnal's blessings allowed her to rival the silence of darkness itself.

Ahead, more necromancers were fighting several Draugr they had mistakenly awakened. Eira drew her bow and waited to see how the fight would pan out – it would be stupid to waste arrows on doomed men and give her hiding place away. Eventually the Draugr felled the last of the necromancers and Eira took aim at the most powerful one that remained. It took three quick shots to fell it, but as she loosed the final arrow one of the others spotted her and rushed over, axe raised.

Eira rolled out of the way and sheathed her bow, drawing her sword and shield instead. A few hacks with her blade were enough to finish off her undead foe – and the same was true for the final Draugr left in the room with her. She quickly checked all the bodies for any valuables before giving the room a sweep – she still marveled at how much wealth was always buried with the dead.

It seemed like such a waste. Why not pass such things on to their kin? The living surely needed gold more than the dead. Eira planned to put it to good use, at least... though she knew well there were many who considered plundering tombs worse than common theft. How strange.

She was here either way, why not reap the rewards that revealed themselves to her? The dead wouldn't miss their spare coins and precious gems. And oh, what a trove this tomb was! Just a little deeper in, Eira found a chamber loaded with valuables – ingots and coins, gems and jewelry... A few more Draugr stood guard over the hoard, but Eira felled them with ease and took what was hers by right of victory.

Venturing further into the tomb's depths, Eira was surprised to find an expansive cavern with a small waterfall far below, emptying out into a clear pond. Moonlight filtered in from a skylight somewhere in the ceiling, and it glinted on the grey stone. Eira felt a wind rush by and shivered. Her whole body pulsed with an ancient power that was becoming very familiar.

There was a word to be learned here, and it called out to her. She made her way down the ramps and tunnels, allowing herself to enjoy the experience of exploring this place in all its quiet, ruined beauty. It sang all around her in it's own voice – the rush of the water, the wind hitting the tattered flags that hung from the walls, the soft sound of waves lapping the shores of the pond. Even the clinking of bones as skeletal warriors patrolled the floors had a music to it, but Eira silenced them before they spied her.

Perhaps someday she would study the art of creating such music. She'd been born to a lineage known for its bards – that was the path Aril had longed to take up when they'd been young. He'd always listened carefully to great-gran's stories. “She's very old, so she must be very wise. You should listen to her, too, sister. Someday she won't be able to sing for us anymore.”

“And what will you do then, Aril?”

“Then... I'll sing for her.”

Eira held her breath as she passed the waterfall, wiping her cheeks dry of the spray. Ahead, she could clearly make out the ancient wall inscribed with words in the Dovah's tongue. She had never been able to sing as beautifully as her mother, or her brothers, but perhaps she was not meant to sing.

When she stood before the ancient text, a wind rose around her. The letters glowed a brilliant blue, and she felt the word settle into her very bones even as it rang loud in her ears. “Feim!” she shouted, and gasped a little as she felt herself become one with the air.

It was different than the Shadowcloak of Nocturnal – when she invoked that power, she merely became invisible to the naked eye for a brief time. This felt different. She was ethereal – like a ghost, but still living. She laughed and spun about, enjoying the lightness to her step. This power would prove quite useful, she was sure.

It wore off after a while, though, and Eira sighed. She still had to finish exploring the tomb – she hadn't reached its innermost chamber, after all. And though her pockets were filled with many treasures, she knew the greatest finds always lay hidden in the deep.

As she forged ahead, however, her patience was tested something fierce. There were trap mechanisms here that she could only sprint through with help from the power the Greybeards had taught her. Eira frowned as she kept her bow ready, sniping the frostbite spiders that had made a nest in the tunnels as she met them. She had a sinking feeling that this was no ordinary tomb.

When she finally found the door to the great burial chamber and cleared the webs from it, that feeling increased tenfold. A sense of reverence filled her as she made her way into the chamber, watching as twin rows of statues rose from the water on either side of the path that led to the large stone coffin at the end of the hall.

Atop the coffin was a stone hand that looked like it had held something once, but all that remained in it's grasp now was a roll of parchment, carefully tied up with a ribbon. Eira's brow furrowed as she studied it for a moment. When she untied it and unfurled it to read the message, however, her eyebrows swiftly rose instead. A chill crept down her spine.

“Dragonborn,” it said, “I need to speak to you. Urgently. Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood. I'll meet you there.”

Eira exhaled slowly as she rolled it up and tucked it in her satchel – it was signed only by “a friend” but what friend would want to meet her in Riverwood? Ralof, perhaps... but why would he have been plundering an ancient tomb so close to Solitude? No, it couldn't be him.

Couldn't be a typical plunderer, though – the chest behind the coffin was still filled with plenty of loot. Eira frowned as she swiped as much of it as she could carry, wondering what great treasure had been taken by her mysterious friend.

 

Eira returned just after dawn, but Niruin was already up waiting for her. He couldn't deny the relieved sigh that left him when she appeared among the trees and slipped her quiver off her shoulders, but he still frowned and looked away as he sipped his loose leaf tea. It was slightly bitter, but that suited his mood just fine.

“You know,” he said, his tone baring a hint of his annoyance, “when you said you were heading out last night, I did not think you would be gone until morning.” He dared a glance to Eira and saw her standing still as a statue, squinting in the morning light that fell through the leaves.

“I never actually told you when I'd be back,” Eira's tone was curt and Niruin looked away again, hands clenching around his cup. “I needed to clear my head, and... I had things to do.”

“This is supposed to be a vacation. You need rest,” Niruin shifted his feet in the damp leaves and dirt, drawing them closer to himself. The wind shifted and he caught the scent of old earth on her – old earth and things best left undisturbed. “Not dig about in ancient ruins. By Oblivion, I told you not to do anything stupid!”

“I didn't do anything stupid,” Eira said, but the waver in her voice betrayed her.

“Yes, you did.” Niruin looked at her again, his nose still wrinkled up. “You barely slept, Eira. Yet you decide to go... what, tomb diving? Do you realize how dangerous that is? All sorts of horrors lurk in the ruins around here!”

“I think I'd know those horrors better than just about anyone, actually. I'm no fool, Niruin.” She went silent for several long moments and Niruin shook his head, anger still burning him up inside.

“No, you're just the damn Dragonborn,” he sighed. “Same difference.”

Eira turned away from him as she threw her quiver over her shoulder again, but not before he caught sight of tears welling up in her eyes. Her voice shook when she spoke again. “Well, the damn Dragonborn is done with this vacation. I have places to be. Good day.”

Before he could speak again, she was gone again – vanished in a flurry of leaves among the trees. He was on his feet in a heartbeat, but trying to run after her was like chasing the wind itself. “Eira! Eira, wait!” He called out after her, but there was no answer.

Damn her skill, damn her luck, damn her swift feet.... damn all of it! Niruin turned to the nearest tree and punched it hard enough to shake leaves from it's branches, but it didn't do a bit of good – just left him with sore, bleeding knuckles that ached with each pulse in his chest.

What had he just done?

“Shit,” he groaned, going back to the campsite. He quickly tossed things together and packed them away – he knew chasing after her was stupid with her in a mood like this, but... she had barely slept. Rune wandered up while he was still cursing and struggling with the tent, looking concerned.

“I thought I heard some sort of fuss – what happened?”

“I'm a fool,” Niruin groaned. “And Eira's being stupid. Can you help me with this? I need to find her before she gets herself in trouble.”

“She's the Guildmaster, I think trouble is part of her profession.” Rune's tone was teasing, but as he moved over to help Niruin pack the tent his eyes were full of concern. Once everything was packed and Niruin was quickly bandaging up his injured hand, Rune frowned and crossed his arms. “Do you need help finding her?”

“No, I can handle this,” Nir pulled the bandage taut with his teeth and tied it off, then looked down at the fallen leaves strewn all about. “Enjoy the rest of your time with your father, Rune. I'll... see you when we get back to Riften.”

“Aye,” Rune gave a soft sigh and clapped Niruin gently on the back. “Take care, elf. Good luck finding the Guildmaster, though. I hear she's damn hard to find when she wants to be hid.”

Niruin sighed, knowing there was truth to Rune's words. She was one with the shadows, truly. But he had been a huntsman long before he'd been a thief – he still knew how to follow a trail. He just prayed to the gods she wasn't trying to cover her tracks... then he might have trouble.

“Don't worry,” he told Rune, heading off the way she had gone. “I don't plan to lose her again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, I really need to play Skyrim more to piece the rest of this story together. I am still working through some of the questlines that play into this tale. I've just been really exhausted and busy over the holidays and have had no time to focus on any of this, whoops.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is another favorite of mine. I had fun writing the dungeon crawl (always one of my favorite things to do in a game) and sprinkling in information about Eira's family. One thing I find interesting is the fact that you can take stuff from tombs with no ill repercussions, despite the fact that that's still stealing. I wanted to address that here, at least a little bit.
> 
> Here's to getting back on track with things this year~ I hope to finish this story within the next couple months and get on to other stories! All the feedback on this one has really helped boost my confidence again, so... thank you for all the kudos and comments! :D


	10. Quick Like Silver

 

Quick Like Silver

23rd of Morning Star, 4E 202

 

Luck was on Niruin's side, for once – Eira's trail was easy to follow through wood and marsh alike. She had sprinted boldly forward for a while, then gone slower through the wetlands. He guessed she was more concerned with being seen than being followed. She was quick enough with a blade that any beast that tried to sneak up behind her likely met a swift end. The pair of wolves Niruin found laying in the mud were just one example.

In the back of his head, he still had a voice telling him that was a waste of good meat even though it had been years since he lived among followers of the Green Pact. His family had never followed it as far as he knew – they ran a winery, for Yffre's sake! There were many Bosmer that would sneer in disgust at any kill left behind in such a manner, but... Niruin figured the beasts had to eat, too.

He left the wolves where they were and continued on.

The trail eventually led him to a small lodge in the woods. A dog barked and ran up to him as he approached and Niruin sighed as he knelt down and ruffled it's fur. “Shh, boy. It's alright, I'm a friend.” There was some food and water left out for it in the yard, so as it ran to go eat Niruin made his way to the door. He spent a moment wondering if he should knock or pick the lock, but before he made up his mind the door opened a little and Eira peered around it at him from inside.

“Well, what is it?” she asked. Niruin winced a little at the hoarseness in her voice.

“You sound terrible. How long have you been crying?” Her eyes were all red around the edges, and the dark circles below them were far darker than usual. She looked like she had just rolled out of bed after waging war with the pillow.

Eira looked away, but couldn't hide the tears creeping down her cheeks even now. “Shut up,” she said. Her voice cracked a little. Niruin desperately wanted to draw her close and hug her until all that pain was gone. Instead, he stood before her in silence for a moment longer, trembling like a leaf in a gentle breeze.

“I'm sorry,” he said, finally, his own voice no more than a whisper. He pressed a hand to his face and looked away. “I should not have said that to you, but damn it! I was worried! You're a great many things, Eira, but immortal is certainly not one of them. I've seen the toll everything takes on you. And I worry – I can't help that. I don't want you to end up dying in some forgotten ruin where no one will ever find you.”

Eira was quiet for another moment before she gave a dry, mirthless laugh and wiped one of her cheeks dry. “No, I'm not immortal. No one is.” She let the door swing open as she went back into the house, a shaky sigh leaving her. Niruin followed her in and shut the door behind him, watching as she turned around and looked him over. Tears still glistened on her cheeks.

“I'm sorry I worried you,” she whispered. “I didn't mean to. I usually travel alone, you know? I'm not used to having someone waiting on me to come back, worrying about me.”

Niruin sighed and finally went over to pull Eira into a warm hug. As she buried her face against his chest he felt a great weight lift from his shoulders. Everything felt right again. “I always worry when you leave,” he said. “Last night you just worried me a little more than usual. I was expecting you to take a short walk, not... that.”

“I'll try to avoid doing that in the future,” Eira said, tilting her head to look at Niruin. She was smiling a little, and even though she had such tired eyes it was still a lovely thing. “But I am what I am, Niruin. Even if I were to become a housewife or bard, damn, I would still dance with danger all the time. I'm sure of it.”

Niruin did laugh a little at that. “I wouldn't say bards have a safe profession, exactly.”

“My family is full of them,” Eira said, grinning a little. “And most of them lived long lives. My great-gran saw more than one era come and go, if her stories are to be believed. She was about seventeen hundred when she died, I think – that's what my grandmother said after we put her to rest.”

“Seventeen hundred,” Niruin's eyebrows had gone up. “That's impossible. I mean, I've heard of mer that lived to be over a thousand, but they are very rare. She might have been stretching the truth a little. Bards are known to make great tales even greater, you know.”

“Oh, I know. But I don't think she was lying.” Eira pulled away from Niruin with a laugh and went to sit on the bed. “She had so many stories. I think most of them were true. Perhaps not all of them – the one she liked to tell about the lost princess was surely just a story. She liked that one a lot, though. My brother liked it, too.”

“You didn't like it?” Niruin asked, leaning back against the wall. “Why not?”

“It was too sad. Her father died before she was even born and her mother would never speak about him. And then when soldiers came and sacked their town, her mother died, too – she saw the soldiers cut her down, and could do nothing but flee as her mother bled out in the snow.”

Eira shuddered a little and curled up against Niruin again. She was like a cat, he realized. Fluid and graceful in all her movements. “I don't like sad stories. I wish there were more happy ones.”

He rested his head against hers and smiled, reaching out to hold her close to him. “I might have one of those for you. Would you like to hear it?” Eira nodded, so he gave a little laugh and continued. “Alright then... There was a foolish young man, once. Hardly more than a boy, really, but he thought he knew everything. Ha. Don't we always, at that age? Anyway, his father was rich, he was engaged to a lovely young noblewoman, he had everything he could dream of wanting...”

“This is your story,” Eira laughed, giving him a little shove. “You told me about this before.”

“Hush now, let me finish,” Niruin smirked and pressed a soft kiss to Eira's hair. “The young man dreaded his wedding day something fierce, you know. The noblewoman was pretty enough, but she had no spark to her. Her eyes were as soft as those of a deer or rabbit, and conversation with her was very, very dull. He knew there would be no love in their marriage. He was a young, foolish man, but he was wise enough to know she wasn't the right one for him.”

“Is there a right one for him?” Eira asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked at Nir.

“Oh, there might be. He dreamed of finding someone as quick as silver and as sharp, both in battle and in conversation. Someone graceful and passionate alike, not some timid girl that would never dare to speak against him.” Niruin smiled as he cupped Eira's cheek. “He hoped to meet a woman as fierce as she was beautiful, with fire in her stare. But the gods were good to him – they sent him a woman with a dragon's heart beating in her breast. One who danced with danger every night. Her very soul was made of fire, and he loved that. He loved her.”

Eira made a strange noise, a choked sort of sob, and then she was kissing him with all of her fierce passion. It was a desperate kiss, a pleading one, and he was quick to return it in kind. When she pulled away, her eyes were still damp and red but her cheeks were flushed and she was smiling despite her tears. Her voice cracked when she spoke. “She loves him, too.”

Niruin let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and gripped her shirt as he leaned in to kiss her again. She was more than he'd ever hoped for, honestly. More than he deserved, but... well, she clearly thought he was good enough for her and that was enough for him to be happy.

He made quick work of her clothes – tugging her cotton shirt over her head and tossing it aside to land somewhere among the various books and trinkets strewn across the floor. Her breasts were free of their bindings already. Niruin assumed she had been trying to sleep when he arrived, but... well, she would probably sleep better when he was done with her.

He pressed kisses to her shoulders and chest, drawing quiet sounds from her. After a while, he stopped and stood up to shed his own clothing while she finished undressing herself. Nir couldn't help but chuckle as he joined her in bed once more, kissing back up her throat until he was at her lips again. She was softer tonight, somehow – the way she smiled and blushed as he kissed her skin was sweet and shy and... completely different than usual, but not in a bad way.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Gods, I love you.”

“I know,” Eira said, pulling him in for another kiss.

They both let out breathless moans when he entered her, still meeting again and again for warm kisses. Slowly, they built the restless embers into a crackling flame – and Niruin couldn't remember ever making love like this. Usually it was a quick thing, a way to quench the flames that were licking at him and threatening to burn him up. But this time... this time it was about making the flames grow.

Niruin whined when he felt her tense up and dig her fingers into his back. The next time he moved, she gasped and shuddered with her release and he smiled at her with sweet fondness. She was so beautiful like this, tired and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. It glistened like diamonds on her skin, stars upon her brow. He bit his lip and quickened his pace a little bit, hoping to follow her soon.

Eira shifted under him and hooked a leg around him, pulling him in for another kiss. It was slow and sleepy, but it was enough to push him over the edge. He groaned against her as he shuddered and came, and when it was done he made no attempt to move from his position. It was comfortable, being with her just like this.

Eventually, though, he pressed one more kiss to her rosy lips and pulled away to spoon her from behind. She gave a content sigh and he smiled. He wasn't really tired yet, but... he closed his eyes anyway and listened to the sound of her heart, beating in her chest. When it finally slowed down, he knew she was finally asleep. Good.

“Rest well,” he said. “I hope your dreams are sweet tonight.”

 

After napping briefly, Niruin got up and stretched a little as he studied the room. It wasn't a big place, this little one-room shack, but it was cozy enough. There was room for the bed and a small table Eira seemed to be using for a desk. Papers were strewn across it haphazardly – some had fallen to the floor. Her satchel also lay slumped against one wall, coins and gems spilling out of it. Amethysts, rubies, garnets... She certainly was fond of treasure.

Niruin sighed as he knelt down and picked up some of the fallen papers, sorting them out as he returned them to her desk. Bounties, requests, a summons from a Jarl... One note in the pile sent a chill down his spine, however. It bore only a dark, inky hand-print and two words: “We Know.”

He knew the mark of the Dark Brotherhood quite well. Their allegiance with the Guild was no secret – they often did business through Delvin, who had worked with the Brotherhood himself in the past. But he had never seen anything like this. His brow furrowed as he studied the note – what could it possibly mean? He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.

Eventually, he set it down on top of the rest of her paperwork and sat down, picking a book up off the desk to flip through while Eira slept. Even that proved to be a surprise, however – the book had been written by Gallus. “As a Nightingale, I feel compelled to place quill to parchment and record my thoughts regarding my knowledge of our order...”

Of course there had been whispers in the Guild for a long, long time about the Nightingales of legend. Most thieves believed them to be no more than a fairy tale, but Niruin had several reasons to believe otherwise. This book only confirmed the suspicions he'd had for a while. Eira was an agent of Nocturnal... and Brynjolf and Karliah likely completed the trinity now.

“To say that the Nightingales are a holy order would be doing us a disservice. In our hearts, we are thieves. We enjoy the hunt and delight in the spoils. We might swear our loyalty to Nocturnal and hold some influence within the Thieves Guild, but the greatest allegiance a Nightingale holds is to himself.” Niruin smiled a little – it had been a long time since he'd spoken with Gallus. They had never been close, but the old Guildmaster had always been nice to talk to.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Niruin jumped a little and lifted his head to look over to the bed. Eira was smiling at him, and when she stretched and sat up he smiled back. “I am,” he said, tilting his head as he studied her. Her hair was still a ruffled mess, but Niruin didn't care. “Did you sleep well, my Nightingale?”

Her eyes went wide for a few moments, and Niruin laughed aloud at how stunned she looked. She was speechless for a bit longer, but when her eyes fell on the book in his lap she crossed her arms and gave a little huff. “Let me guess, you got bored and started going through my stuff?”

“Sounds about right,” Niruin said, flashing her a smug grin. “Can you really blame me?”

“No,” Eira shook her head and sighed a little. “I would've done the same thing. But gods, Nir – you know how to push your luck!” She got up, wrapping the blanket around herself, and moved to stand behind him. “I wouldn't suggest digging through my things, some of them are not meant to be seen or touched.”

When she saw the note sitting on top of the pile of paperwork, her face paled a little and she snatched it up, standing still as she studied it. Niruin rolled his eyes and raised one eyebrow as he closed the book and set it on the desk with a soft thud. “Dare I ask what that was about? I know the mark of the Brotherhood, Eira. Why did they...”

“Do you remember Grelod the Kind?” Eira asked, cutting Niruin off. “The old woman who used to run the orphanage in Riften?”

“Yes, of course. She was a menace,” Niruin said, shifting in his seat as he looked at Eira. A memory suddenly came back to him. “She was murdered right before you showed up at the Guild.”

“She's the reason I went to Riften in the first place,” Eira said. “I heard rumors about some child performing a dark ritual, so of course I looked into them... but when I found the poor boy, he thought I had come to answer his plea.” She gave a dry laugh, tightening the blanket around her shoulders. The paper crinkled in her hand.

“After hearing him out, I decided to see for myself how things were at the orphanage. The night I snuck into Riften, I overheard Grelod putting the children to bed – and of course, the boy hadn't been exaggerating. She was a horrible woman.”

“So you killed her,” Niruin's eyebrows were raised.

“So I killed her,” Eira said, her face expressionless. “It was quick and easy – she never knew what hit her. After that was done, I went to get a drink at the Bee and the Barb and wound up staying the night. I wanted to see how people reacted in the morning. But when morning came and I was about to leave the city... Brynjolf pulled me aside to speak with me.”

She smiled a little again and met Niruin's gaze again, which had softened a little. He wasn't too surprised – the skills she had in the Guild were just as useful for an assassin. She was quiet, quick, and a damn good shot. She was no cold-blooded killer, but maybe she didn't have to be. He knew that better than just about anyone. “So that was the first time you met Brynjolf?”

“He'd seen me in the tavern the night before, apparently.” Eira laughed. “He told me he knew a thief when he saw one. I mean, he wasn't wrong. I've earned plenty of honest coin, too, but... I can't help taking pretty things when I see them. Especially when they belong to wealthy people that sneer at people like me.”

She frowned as she glanced down at the paper in her hand again, then sighed and returned it to her desk. Niruin looked at it and gave a sigh. “So is that the end of that story, or is there more to it?”

Eira ran a hand through her hair and went back to sit on the edge of the bed. “Well... the Dark Brotherhood figured out I was the one that stole the mark from them. I found that note in Windhelm when I went to check on the boy that started it all. That night, I went to bed in one place and woke up somewhere else entirely. Astrid spoke with me at length... and then gave me another contract. And it's been like that ever since. She knows the sort of marks to give me. They're quite efficient.”

She was quiet for a while, and Niruin wasn't sure what to say. Suddenly a lot of Delvin's talk made more sense – he was always praising Eira's ability to get a job done without taking anyone out. If he knew she was with the Brotherhood, too... no wonder that impressed him.

His silence didn't go unnoticed, though. Eira glanced to him again, her brow furrowed with concern and worry. “It doesn't bother you, does it? That I'm...”

“No, it doesn't bother me,” Niruin said, standing up and walking over to her. He cupped both of her cheeks in his hands and smiled at her. “Did I ever tell you about the guild I used to work for? The Silver Crescents... they're a guild of thieves, but they run plenty of hit jobs, too. They had a branch dedicated to that line of work, actually, but once in a while they needed very specific talents.”

“Like yours?” Eira asked, and Niruin nodded.

“I was always good at hunting,” he mused, quietly. He wasn't really mirthful, though – these were not his fondest memories. “I'm quiet and good with a bow. Just like you. I only ran that sort of job for them one time, though. I didn't enjoy it.”

Eira was quiet for a while, then pulled away from him and lay down on the bed once more. He wondered if he had said something wrong. He sat down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder, gentle with his touch. “Eira?”

“I'm not sure how I feel about it,” she finally said. “I certainly don't do it for the money. I get paid much better doing things I love far more... but I do enjoy it.” She gave a little shudder and Niruin tightened his grip on her shoulder. “Sometimes I enjoy it so much it scares me.”

“You have a good heart,” Niruin said, keeping his voice soft. “Trust that, and you have nothing to fear. You're not ruthless, Eira. I don't think you ever could be.”

“I hope you're right,” she said, pulling away from him so she could draw the covers close. She didn't speak up again, so Niruin let her be. He knew better than to pry further – perhaps it was best if he didn't ask about her work with the Brotherhood again. He trusted her to tell him if he ever needed to know more.

 

When morning came at last, Eira led the way to the city of Morthal. Apparently, she had been serious about needing to tend to business elsewhere, but she was more than happy to let Niruin tag along for the trip if he so wished. By the time they boarded a carriage bound for Falkreath, though, he wondered what he was getting himself into.

Love really was a crazy thing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wince a little looking at chapter one now (and want to edit it something fiercely!) but I am glad to finally reveal Eira is indeed the assassin that killed Grelod the Kind. I'm rather amused to admit things went down very much like this in my playthrough - since I came to Riften in the night, I didn't meet Brynjolf until I was leaving the city. After, you know, asking pretty much everyone in town where the Thieves Guild was. Oops.
> 
> Anyway, we finally have an official confession! Truly, this finally gets at the heart of what I love about the idea of pairing Niruin with the Dragonborn. He's got a thing for danger, that much is clear from the little glimpses of official backstory we get from him. And what person would be more dangerous to court than the Dragonborn? It has potential. And with Eira specifically... something about the two of them just clicked in my head when I met the Guild. They're a lot alike, and I really DO wish you could marry people in the Guild.
> 
> I know there are mods for it, but I'd rather write fanfic. xD
> 
> More to come soon! I wish I could write faster, but I've been very tired of late. Personal stuff, life, and the state of the world have all taken a toll on me. But I love this story, and I want to finish it by April if possible.
> 
> Thanks for all the feedback!


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